


Think of Me as Your Family

by Gabrielle



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-25
Updated: 2014-04-14
Packaged: 2017-12-06 11:39:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 52
Words: 76,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/735230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gabrielle/pseuds/Gabrielle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>*Set in Season Six/Season Three* Sequel to Think of Me as Your Friend. Willow and Spike have finally found acceptance from her friends and happy almost-domesticity together when a call from Angel changes everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter One)  
  
  
  
Willow should have known.   
  
Everything had been going so well: Xander and Anya were happily married (just _how_ happily had been described in embarrassing detail by Anya more than once); Giles was coming to terms with the fact that she and Spike were together and his presence was doing wonders for Buffy, who was also being terrific about the way things had turned out; Dawn was even thawing towards Willow. Other than a bunch of nonsense from the Loser Trio, things had been great for a whole week. Willow should have known it was too good to last.   
  
“Hold on. What are you saying, Angel? Whose son?” Willow held the phone to her ear, trying to ignore Spike’s eye-rolling and annoyed sighs. She put her hand over the mouthpiece. “Shh!” Then she turned her attention back to Angel. “Another dimension? Okay, whose son is this again? Yours? But I thought you said this was a…” He was drunk, she finally realized as she listened to him slur his words. Obviously he was hallucinating, or confused, or… “What do you mean you and Darla have a son? I thought Drusilla was Spike’s…” This was getting more confusing by the minute, especially with what Angel said next. “Not Spike? But… and Darla’s dead – really dead. You killed her!”  
  
Her confusion seemed to sober him up and he started filling in some key details. “Wolfram and Hart – they’re an evil law firm – they brought Darla back somehow. We… became involved. And yeah, I know it’s impossible, but she got pregnant, gave birth to my son: Connor.”  
  
Oh god. Willow wanted to sit down, but she was at the phone in the hall. Spike was trying to grab the receiver, and she pulled it away. Covering the mouthpiece – again – she admonished him, “I’ll tell you in a minute.” Getting back to Angel, she asked, “So what happened to him? Connor.”  
  
  
  
“I should have told him. About the magic. I should have told him I can’t help him.” Willow was sitting on the couch with Spike, still completely discombobulated by Angel’s phone call. Goddess but this was… unexpected? Bizarre? Unbelievable? She couldn’t even figure out the right word for it. “Are you okay?” she asked, noticing that Spike looked pretty freaked out.  
  
“Yeah,” he said softly, but it wasn’t very convincing.  
  
“It’s got to be weird for you, huh?” She edged closer and put her arm around him, bringing his head down to her shoulder. What was she supposed to say? What _could_ you say to a vampire who just discovered he had a brand new human uncle… an infant uncle… an uncle who’d been kidnapped and taken to another dimension? This wasn’t the kind of situation Hallmark made cards for… though she had always wondered what they thought about the brisk business the local Gold Crown store did in condolence cards.   
  
“That’s one way to put it, love.” Spike’s voice was soft and strange and he leaned into her hand as she stroked his hair. Somehow this reminded her of the night he’d first kissed her. “Angel having a brat? Seems hard to believe, doesn’t it?”  
  
“And now his son’s been kidnapped and taken to another dimension,” Willow reminded him.  
  
“Yeah.” Spike sat up. There was a tension in his posture now. “He called _you_. He asked for your help.”  
  
It took her a moment to figure it out, but she knew Spike well enough to realize that he was hurt. He hated Angel, but… Angel was family and she knew that deep down a part of Spike longed for his approval, or at least some acknowledgment. “He probably doesn’t know how to reach you,” she offered. “It’s not like anyone’s told him about us.” Her hand was over his and she felt him relax slightly. It was a relief. She hated to see him in any kind of pain. “I’m sorry I didn’t get the chance to tell him you were here.”  
  
He shrugged, but the tension was back. “Not like I’d be much use. You’re the one with the mojo he needs.”  
  
Huh? “ _Was_ the one. Remember? I’m off the sauce these days.”   
  
“Yeah. Guess no one told him about that either.” Now his other hand was over hers. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to remind ya.”   
  
His lips touched her forehead and it felt like the forgiveness she hadn’t known she needed until he offered it. A part of her wished so badly that she could help Angel. Maybe… “I should talk to Tara. She could probably…”  
  
Spike put an arm around her. “She might do. Never seen her work the really big mojo on her own.”  
  
Neither had Willow and for a moment her hope dimmed. But Tara’s problem was probably more a confidence issue than any magical deficiency. After all, she was a hereditary witch. She had to be able to call on a wellspring of pure power, right? She could save Angel’s son. All she needed was to believe in herself, and maybe if Willow and Spike showed her that _they_ had faith in her abilities, she’d have the courage to dig deep and find her full potential. “She can do it,” Willow affirmed with more certainty.  
  
“You gonna call the Poof? Tell him you’re sending a relief witch?”  
  
Willow thought about it for a moment, weighing both sides of the equation. Then she shook her head. “I better wait and talk to Tara first.” As much as she longed to give Angel concrete hope, she realized it would be wrong to back Tara into a corner. No matter what, Tara had the right to decide for herself. Then another issue came to mind. “What about Buffy? Should we…?”  
  
“No.” It was one word and it was vehement.  
  
He was right, of course. Buffy had been through enough; the last thing she needed was to learn that Angel had had sex with someone else… and had a child with them. Willow knew how much it would hurt Buffy that her dream had come true with a different woman in the starring role. “Yeah. Guess it would do a lot more harm than good.”  
  
“That’s the understatement of the year, pet.” He pulled her close. “The Slayer’s come a long way, longer than I thought she could, really, but this? This’d send her right back into the abyss.”  
  
“I know.” She leaned against her lover, wondering, and not for the first time, how she’d gotten so lucky while Buffy couldn’t seem to catch a break. It didn’t seem fair. “You know, I’ve tried everything I know, checked every source I could… I could bring Buffy back from the dead and I couldn’t fix Angel’s soul. I wish…” She started to cry.  
  
Spike was having none of it. “She and Angelus were always a lost cause. As friends, as lovers… They were never gonna make it work. Should have stuck to bein’ allies in battle, that’s how I see it.” She looked at him, feeling insecure again. He got it. He always did. “Now, now. I am not sayin’ that because I used to fancy her. I’m sayin’ it because I know what love is now. Because of _you_.” He kissed her softly and then continued. “What they had? It was only gonna end badly. Not because of his soul, but because of who they are.”  
  
For a second, Willow thought about arguing with him, but then she wondered: was he right? Yeah, sure, Willow had seen Buffy and Angel together more than he had… still, now that she thought about it he sort of had a point. Even before they’d known about the happiness clause, things hadn’t exactly been rosy, had they? What with Buffy wanting a normal life and all, which, come to think of it, she pretty much still did.   
  
Before she could agree with him, however, Spike’s lips were on hers again and there were hands… hands in very familiar and enjoyable places. He needed comfort and a way to get his mind off of everything – and hey, she didn’t think that was such a bad idea herself. So when he moved to pull her shirt over her head, she helped him.  
  
“I love you,” she breathed as his mouth moved down to her neck and his fingers found the clasp of her bra.  
  
Again, she got thinky for a moment as she wondered if maybe they should move this upstairs… and then Spike’s lips closed around one of her nipples. The heck with it. Rechristening the couch seemed like a great idea.  
  
As her hands began the work of undoing Spike’s jeans, she decided to turn off her brain and let herself feel. With everything she was going to have to think about, her brain needed the rest anyway. Besides, this was a job for her body and…. “Oh!” She was on her back and her jeans and panties were gone and… “Oh God!” Spike was doing that amazing thing with his tongue. Bye-bye brain. Come back later… way later.  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	2. Chapter Two

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Two)  
  
  
  
Willow was still shaking when they got back to the house. “Man, that was…”  
  
“That it was, pet.” Spike was obviously just as freaked out by what they’d just gone through as she was. Bet Buffy was more wigged than the both of them put together.  
  
“I can’t imagine how scared she must have been. Thinking she was in a mental hospital? That her whole life was some delusion?” Willow’s shaking didn’t stop. She remembered what it had been like when she’d been delusional with magic…and when Rack had taken his ‘tours’ in her head. The thought that Buffy endured anything like that… the fact that at one time Buffy actually _had_ been in an institution… “Do you think we should have stayed with her?”  
  
Spike opened the front door and then put his arm around her again as they walked in. “She’s got Dawn there. I think they need some time, just the two of ‘em.”  
  
He had a point. Dawn had been through a lot with this too. There was healing that needed to be done that was a Summers thing only.   
  
“C’mere and sit with me, love.”   
  
That sounded like the best idea ever, so she joined Spike on the couch. “I’m glad Tara showed up,” she said. Sure, her ex hadn’t been able to kill the demon, but hey – she untied them and that was a plus.  
  
Spike was giving her a look, that shadowed look that always meant something. “I know this is a bit of bad timing, but Tara… we need to talk about her.”  
  
Talk? They needed to talk about Tara? Now? Willow was getting another wiggins. “What do you mean?”  
  
“I mean,” he took her hand and stared into eyes, “that after tonight… it’s pretty obvious she doesn’t have what it takes to help Angel get his boy back.”  
  
“Of course she does! She got us untied. Oh! And she knocked the shelves right into the demon and…”  
  
“And then Buffy knocked her out. You know as well as I do that those spells were Magic 101. You had more mojo back when you were bollixing stuff up.”  
  
“That is so not true! I learned practically everything from Tara. And anyway, she was totally taken by surprise. You can’t judge her based on what she did when she was completely unprepared.”  
  
“Really? Quick. What would your go-to spell be if a demon burst in back when you were workin’ the magics?”  
  
Without thinking she answered, “Thicken,” and she realized that maybe she’d made his point.  
  
“Damn right. But it takes energy, doesn’t it? You’d have done it, untied everyone down in the basement, and had your shields up at the same time. Tara could barely manage untying us and knocking over a set of rickety shelves. Maybe she could manage that ‘thicken’ spell with a whole lot of preparation, but if she needs that much work for something you used to do in your sleep, how the bloody hell is she gonna mojo a vampire’s brat out of another dimension?”  
  
Willow wanted to argue, but she couldn’t. Tara was a good witch, a pure witch, but… she wasn’t a powerful witch, was she? Leaning against Spike, Willow started to cry. On top of everything they’d gone through today, now she had to face the prospect of telling Angel that his son was lost forever. “What are we going to do?” Her sobs continued for a few minutes as Spike held her and murmured soothing words, but finally they died down. Spike seemed about to say something of more import than ‘there, there’, but Willow cut him off when she had a sudden burst of inspiration. “Giles! Giles has to know someone who can help!”  
  
Her enthusiasm was quickly punctured. “Do you really think that’s a good idea? Even if he didn’t spill it all to Buffy, there’s no guarantee he’d lift a finger for Angel.”  
  
He was right and Willow almost wanted to kick him. Nothing but doom and pain were on the horizon – and not just for Angel. Her own guilt was overwhelming. Then there was Spike. Sure, he and Angel had tried to kill each other more than once and anybody overhearing his and Willow’s recent conversations would be trying to figure out Spike’s angle, but Willow knew that underneath all the bad blood was… well… _blood_. Angel was Spike’s family and when it all came down to it… “I’m so sorry,” she said, the tears returning to her eyes.  
  
There was that look again – the shadowed one. What did it mean _this_ time? “I want to ask you something.”  
  
Trembling. She was doing it again. Because even though she had no idea what Spike was about to ask, she was pretty sure it was going to scare her. “What?” she replied in a voice as full of tremors as her body.  
  
“Do ya still pray? I mean all that goddess/Wicca stuff. The way you used to.”  
  
What was the right answer to that? Because the last thing she wanted was for him to think she was falling off the wagon, but… Okay. She decided to be honest… sort of. “Sometimes,” she offered haltingly.  
  
Was that a sigh of relief? She didn’t get it. But she had a feeling she was about ready to be hit with another question, so she’d know soon enough… too soon, in fact. “When we were down in that basement, when I saw the way you were holding back, when I felt this…” He got up and started pacing and Willow was now officially terrified. “Look, love. I know we all thought you needed to… But I felt this force around you. The magic’s there. Hell, I think Tara might even have tapped into it, though not consciously or she might have been able to do…” Willow’s terror was now mixed with equal parts confusion and dread, but she had no idea what to say, though she wanted to say something, anything, to stop Spike.   
  
He didn’t stop, though.  
  
“What I’m trying to say is this.” He sat back down and took her hands in his. “I want you to pray or talk or whatever it is you do with that goddess of yours. Ask her to tell you if you can do this – if you can get Angel’s boy out of that other dimension.”  
  
What? How could he even…? After everything…? “What about Dawn? What about what I did to you and to Tara and everyone else? How can you even think that I…?”  
  
Spike pulled her into his arms. “I know it’s hard. I’m not sayin’ you didn’t go off the end a bit.”  
  
“A bit? I messed with all your minds! I almost killed Dawn! And Tara…” She didn’t even want to think about what she’d done to Tara. She and Spike had talked about it once, but only once. It was still so painful to believe she was capable of something like that.  
  
“I know.” He held her tightly in his arms, but she felt completely alone in her pain and self-hatred – all of which she totally deserved. “Maybe you need to talk to her about that,” he said softly.   
  
There was no maybe about it. Willow knew that the minute he suggested it. It was scarier than any demon she’d ever faced – scarier even than a life without magic – but she guessed she’d known for awhile that it was something she needed to do. Getting up, she headed for the phone.  
  
Spike was the one who seemed confused now. “What are you doing?”  
  
“Calling Tara.”  
  
“I didn’t mean you had to talk to her right now.”  
  
“If I don’t, I’ll lose my nerve,” she said, her voice shaking – again – even as she picked up the receiver and dialed Tara’s number.   
  
The phone at the other end rang… and rang… and rang again. Willow was about to hang up when she heard a familiar voice. “Hello?”  
  
“T-Tara?” Oh goody. This time Willow was the one who was stuttering. Okay, she could do this… Except, as much as she wanted to, she couldn’t do this over the phone. Tara deserved a face-to-face meeting. And the chance to slap – or punch – her if she wanted. “I think we need to talk. Is there any chance… Do you have time tonight? Can I come over?”  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	3. Chapter Three

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Three)  
  
  
  
It was weird, being back in Tara’s dorm room. All these familiar things… they’d made love on that bedspread more than once. Goddess but it felt like a lifetime since those days. “Hey,” Willow said. She’d already said ‘hi’, but ‘hey’ was different, right? Her legs felt like they were made out of pudding. How was she even able to stay upright?   
  
Tara was just standing there, probably wondering why Willow was even here but way too kind and polite to tell her to just say what the heck the point of this meeting was already. “I guess you’d probably like to know why I wanted to talk to you, huh?” Tara nodded in response; her eyes were wide, guileless, and full of questions. She was really beautiful, wasn’t she? That realization didn’t make Willow fall for her again, but it made her remember in an almost physical way why she’d loved her before. She really owed Tara, didn’t she? If for no other reason than the memory of that love and how much it had given her – how much of the good that existed in her was because of Tara. “I… I need to apologize.”  
  
Still uncomprehending, those eyes. “What for?”  
  
“For what I did to you.”  
  
That wasn’t all, and she knew she needed to say more. Especially since Tara didn’t quite get what she was trying to say. Her brow was furrowed as she addressed what she thought Willow was talking about. “It’s okay. It is. You and Spike…”   
  
“That’s not what I meant,” Willow interrupted. “I mean… what I _did_ to you.” Taking a deep breath, she finally said it. “When I… when I did the memory spell on you and we… I… when I took advantage… No, not took advantage. It was worse than that. I mean when I…” She collapsed in tears. “Oh god, Tara, I’m so sorry. Because I hurt you and it was wrong and it was evil and it was worse than the magic and nobody has a right to hurt you like that. I…”   
  
For the first time in a long time, she was in Tara’s arms. A moment passed, a moment that seemed endless, but then she heard Tara’s soft voice. “I forgive you.”  
  
That could have been it, but Willow hadn’t really said it, had she? And she knew that the words had to be said. She let go of Tara and took a step back, making sure that Tara could see her eyes. “I betrayed you, didn’t I? I mean, it’s not like you would have if… So yeah, I… I…,” the words tasted like arsenic and acid on her tongue even before she said them out loud, “I manipulated you. I tricked you. I took away your choice. I got you to do something you wouldn’t have done if you’d remembered… I was so wrong and there’s nothing I can do to fix it, but…” Saying it – the whole ugly truth – somehow it made everything infinitely worse and infinitely better all at once. “I’m so sorry,” she repeated, even though she realized that it sounded miserable and shriveled and not nearly important enough.   
  
Now Tara was the one whose cheeks were wet with tears. “I h-hadn’t thought of it like that,” she said, and for a terrible moment Willow wondered if this whole conversation hadn’t simply been one more selfish, horrible act on her part, but then Tara continued, “But it was wrong. I knew that. I th-think… I think I needed to hear you say…” There was a long pause. “Thank you.” Those two words were the last ones Willow had ever expected to hear. “C-could you just go now? I k-kind of need to b-be alone.”  
  
There was nothing she could do to take away any of the pain she’d unearthed within Tara tonight, was there? All she could do was remind herself that Tara understood that this was something she’d needed in order to heal from wounds she hadn’t even known were bleeding within her. That healing was something Tara needed to do on her own. “Goodbye,” she said softly, and she left without expecting a farewell in reply.  
  
  
  
It seemed as if she’d walked for hours before she got back to her house. Spike was sitting in the living room… and there was tea. Once again, she found herself in tears. His kindness and consideration were completely undeserved. “I hurt her,” she whimpered and a second later, she was in Spike’s arms.  
  
“There, there, pet. It was real before you said anything.” How did he know?  
  
“I still can’t believe that I could do something like that. That I could be that evil and bad. How can you still love me, knowing what I did?”  
  
Spike didn’t let go. “Sometimes, when we love people, when we’re terrified of losing ‘em…” There was silence and Willow wasn’t sure he was going to say more, but then he did. “I turned my Mum,” he said softly, so softly that she wasn’t sure she’d heard him correctly. “Turned her right after Dru made me. Didn’t want to live without her, but…” He was clinging to her tightly now and she could feel his tears against her neck. “It was awful, awful.” The words kept coming. “She… I ended up stakin’ her. Changed her into a demon because I was so bloody selfish – couldn’t see past wanting my Mum with me forever – and it was all for nothing. Wound up killing her twice, bastard that I am.” He wasn’t quite sobbing, but the emotion was there and Willow felt all of his pain as if it had crept inside her bones.   
  
They stayed like that, silent and unmoving, for a few minutes; it was as if the whole world stood still. Spike’s story, missing pieces and all, sank in and it was if she could feel her heart breaking. No, he didn’t have a soul and she knew that there were many terrible deeds he could have recounted to her, but this one – this one… yes, this was the very worst.  
  
It was so much like what she’d done to Tara, wasn’t it? What he’d done, what _she_ had done – their actions were all the more cruel and unforgivable because of the lies they’d told themselves as their selfishness caused them to savage the people they loved best in all the world.   
  
Now, though, she supposed, she understood how he could love her – because she still… “I love you,” she said in a low voice.   
  
“I love you, too,” he replied, just as quietly.   
  
So they remained, standing by the sofa, holding each other for dear life. This wasn’t one of those times when they wanted to comfort each other with sex; Willow wasn’t sure if there _was_ any way to comfort someone when they’d shown you the blackest part of their being. She and Spike hadn’t made love the night she’d first told him the whole, unvarnished truth about what she’d done to Tara either.   
  
So she just held him and let him hold her.   
  
It seemed like the only thing to do.  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	4. Chapter Four

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Four)  
  
  
  
  
Willow had been downstairs for hours when Spike came into the kitchen. She’d been sitting in the dark, conscious of… everything. She’d known when she left Tara’s room, hadn’t she? That she’d opened the door again. That she’d just had that ‘talk’ with the goddess Spike had urged on her.  
  
“You done the thinking you needed?” he asked. Well, there went her theory that he’d been sleeping peacefully all this time. She wished he had been. It would have been nice if one of them had gotten real rest.   
  
“Guess so,” she shrugged.   
  
“Want some light?” She shrugged again and he flipped the switch. She squinted her eyes tight against the sudden, harsh glare.   
  
“I wasn’t quite ready,” she whined as she slowly cracked open her eyelids.  
  
“We never are, are we,” Spike replied, and definitely not talking about the overhead light – not _only_ that, anyway. No, she wasn’t getting out of talking about everything here and now.  
  
“I’ll call Angel. Tell him we’ll be there tonight.”  
  
Spike evinced not one whit of surprise. “What are we gonna tell your friends? The Watcher?”  
  
Now there was a good question. Was ‘I was hoping you’d come up with something because you lie a lot better than I do’ a good answer? Probably not, though maybe, because Spike did like being reminded of his Big Bad-ness from time to time. “Sort of thought you’d handle all the sneaky stuff. Seeing as how you’re the one who’s good at it and all.” She refrained from batting her eyes. That would be laying it on a little thick.  
  
He ruffled her hair. “Soft little coward, aren’t you?” Gee, was it that obvious? “But I am a bit better with the plausible cover stories at that.” He sat down and seemed to be giving the matter serious thought. Seconds ticked by, or they might have been minutes, and silence reigned. Then Spike sighed. “Damned if I can think of any good reason for you and me to be in L.A. Not one that doesn’t involve the poof, and mentioning him is the problem in the first place.”  
  
His point was well-taken. How in the heck could they explain going to Los Angeles? Especially since lying about where they were going would prove tricky in case anyone needed to reach them for an emergency.   
  
Willow’s brow furrowed in thought for a moment and as she reached up and touched the lines forming there, she thought of how often Angel brooded – wait! Maybe that was it. Not brooding, but the whole… “We could say you want to tell him about us. In person. Him being kind of your sire and all.”  
  
The moment the word ‘sire’ left her mouth, she winced, wondering how Spike would react, but his expression seemed almost happy. Huh. “You’re a better liar than you half get credit for,” he responded, reaching out to stroke her cheek.   
  
She grinned, then thought better of it. That shouldn’t be a compliment, though from her soulless demon boyfriend, she guessed it was. “Well, I guess it’s okay since it’s for a good cause and all,” she equivocated.  
  
Spike was silent for a moment – guess the reality of what they were about to do was sinking in. The last time he’d seen Angel… hadn’t torture been involved? Oh god. Willow probably should call Angel and let him know that she was coming – and who she was coming with. She’d rather die than see Spike get staked.  
  
“I’m gonna go use the phone, okay?” He nodded and made no move to follow her, though she figured he would in a moment, pretending he wasn’t eavesdropping. She was kind of getting used to the whole ‘demon’ thing and all its attendant eccentricities.  
  
Memorizing phone numbers had always been easy for Willow and Angel’s was no exception, so she didn’t have to check her address book before dialing. The phone rang twice before being picked up. “Angel?”  
  
She could almost hear him nod before remembering he needed to speak; Oz had been the same way. Yeah, you never really forgot the ways of the Taciturn Man. “Willow. Did you…?”  
  
“I couldn’t really do any research here. Guess you can sort of understand, but… But I’m on my way there and I’m sure I can figure this out. Not like it’s the first time… I mean I brought Buffy back from… Maybe not the best comparison, but what I mean is that I have some experience with alternate realities and retrieving people and…” She was stammering and babbling like she was back in tenth grade. Oh goddess. Plus her palms were sweating. She better just blurt it out. “Look. I… I’m not coming alone. I’m bringing someone with me.” Nice redundancy there.   
  
“Buffy?” Angel asked – and was that nervousness she heard? It was going to get so much worse when she told him…  
  
“No. It’s… It’s Spike.”  
  
“Spike?” His voice went up an octave and he sort of sounded like Xander when he was freaking out, not that she would ever in a million years say that to Angel. “Why…?”  
  
“He’s my boyfriend.”  
  
Silence. There were so many kinds of silence. Happy silence, thoughtful silence… this, though? This was ominous silence.   
  
Or maybe it was just stunned. Willow crossed her fingers, hoping for stunned, even as she felt Spike’s presence somewhere behind her. She didn’t turn around, electing to pretend she didn’t know he was there. He liked feeling like the super sneaky Big Bad. Besides, she was too busy worrying about Angel and that silence.  
  
Which was now broken. “Did you say boyfriend? Because Buffy told me…”  
  
Great. She had to have the orientation talk _now_? “Yes, I had a girlfriend. But we broke up and now I’m with Spike. Does the bisexual thing bother you?”  
  
Spike blew his cover past pretense with a sharp guffaw and Willow decided she had some questions to ask later, but for now… “No, of course not.” Did Angel sound weird? Along with the guffaw, this had officially made Willow extra curious. “But Spike? Willow, he’s a soulless…”  
  
“Did you get this speech from the Giles book of clichés?” Willow asked, feeling kind of snippy. Here she was offering to help him get his son back from another dimension and Angel was hassling her about her love life. “Because for your information, Giles has totally come around, and so has everyone else. We even have Buffy’s blessing.” Taking a deep breath, she calmed herself, feeling sort of guilty because, hey, Angel had to be totally panicking what with everything he was going through. “Look, I get that you’re on edge right now, but me and Spike? We’re a package deal. So if you want my help, you have to accept him too. Besides, he’ll be a lot of help if we have to fight any demons.”  
  
“Buffy told me about the chip,” Angel finally said, “So I guess I can accept that he won’t cause much trouble.” Another pause and then, “When will you be here?”  
  
“We’re leaving tonight as soon as the sun’s down.”  
  
“Okay. I’ll see you tonight then.” She expected him to hang up and maybe he’d been about to, but then he said, “Thank you” in the most vulnerable voice she’d ever heard from him.  
  
How to even respond to it. She realized in that moment how much Angel loved his son. Failure was not an option, so she did something she swore she wouldn’t do. “I’ll get him back for you, Angel. I promise.”  
  
He hung up without saying another word, but she got the feeling he believed her and… oh goddess. “What did I just do, Spike?” she all but wailed as she put the receiver back in the cradle. “What if I…”  
  
A second later, she was in Spike’s arms. “You’ll get the kid back.” The way he said it, it was like he had no doubt at all and just when she didn’t think she could possibly love him more, maybe she kind of did. He tilted her chin up and forced her to gaze into her eyes. “You can do this. I’ve seen a lot of witches and been around a lot of hocus pocus in my time. Bloody Dru was always messing about with cards and potions. Never met anyone with the mojo you’ve got. You’re like no one in the world.” He kissed her forehead and then he added, “I know you’re worried. And I admit that when all that badness went down I was right on board the ‘stay off the magics forever’ train, but… I was wrong. The other night, when I felt… Magic isn’t something you _do_ , it’s something you _are_. Okay, you went a bit wrong for a time, but you’ve learned and… You’re good, pet. Deep down, in your heart, you’re good. That good is what’s gonna make it all come right.”  
  
Willow couldn’t stop herself from tearing up. “I love you.”  
  
“Love you, too. Now, dry your eyes, because you have to go tell your pretty fairytale to your chums while I pack our things.”  
  
What? She was going to have to lie by herself?  
  
  
  
To be continued...


	5. Chapter Five

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Five)  
  
  
The cacophony that just three people could create struck Willow as astounding. Boy did she wish she had done a study of this phenomenon for her science project back in high school. She’d have totally beaten Chris.  
  
Of course, right now, the din was less ‘scientifically interesting’ and more ‘eardrum-shatteringly annoying.’  
  
She stood, silent and non-participatory, as Buffy, Xander, and Giles competed to see who could object the most loudly and strenuously to the idea of Willow and Spike paying a call on Angel. Despite the fact that he had the home court advantage, this being his apartment and all, Willow was still surprised that Giles seemed to be winning. Maybe it was because he was using longer words which stood out amidst the ones Buffy and Xander were using, which were pretty much the same, only configured somewhat differently.  
  
Finally, after thanking the goddess that Anya wasn’t there to add to the clamour and after suffering through about the eight hundred and seventy-fifth permutation of ‘no way’, she decided she’d had enough. Putting her fingers to her lips, she emitted an ear-piercing whistle, which, combined with her most resolve-y Resolve Face, seemed to finally put a stop to the loud objection contest which she had not volunteered to judge. “I’m a grown woman, remember? And I didn’t come here for permission or to hear all of you shouting your opinions at me. I came here to let you know where we’d be for the next couple of days.” Xander’s mouth opened and Willow held her hand up. “Period! End of story. Got it?”  
  
Her mouth set in a tight line, she waited until she received grudging nods from all three and then she breathed. “Look. I know Spike and Angel don’t have the best history,” Buffy snorted and Willow glared at her before continuing, “but Spike thinks, and I agree, that we should tell him about us in person, that maybe this would be a chance for them to make peace.”  
  
Everyone looked skeptical, but finally Giles nodded again, sagely this time. “I suppose it makes a certain kind of sense.” Now Buffy and Xander were staring at _him_. “Well, given recent events, and Spike’s current relationship with Willow, he’s undergone a degree of… well… transformation might be too strong a word, but…”  
  
“So what you mean to say is that because Spike’s neutered and housebroken, he wants to make nice with dear old Dad?” You know? All Willow had to do to make Anya a widow was to repeat this to Spike – chip or no, he’d find a way to remove Xander’s entrails. She decided not to share. Especially the part where Xander said Spike was neutered.  
  
She also decided not to react to it. It wasn’t in her best interest to get everyone all het up. She needed them to calm down and not worry… or think, for that matter. “Spike just wants to square things with Angel, okay? Because, hey, we all might need to work together in the future and it would be very bad if there were any distractions like, oh, say, Angel and Spike fighting each other instead of evil.”  
  
The last remark earned her a few grudging murmurs of assent and she nearly breathed a sigh of relief.  
  
“We’ll only be gone for a day or two,” she reminded them cheerfully, hoping like heck that was true. Before she could even think about getting Connor back, she was going to need to find the right spell and buy supplies. Not like Giles’s books and the Magic Box were resources on which she could draw. She did her best not to let any of her worries show in her face, and she seemed to have succeeded, as shown by the fact that no one was doubting her. Guess dating a demon was rubbing off on her. Maybe that should worry her or something, but right now, the skill at prevarication was once again part of this very important good deed she was trying to do, so she figured she had the goddess’s blessing. “You won’t even know I’m gone.”  
  
That led to a chorus of ‘of course we will’s that she should have expected and that she had to admit were nice to hear and then she was able to make her exit. Phew. Sentiment made it so much harder to maintain a lie and she was starting to feel really guilty. But then she thought about Buffy, and everything she was going through, and she felt a lot better about keeping this secret. Because there was no way Buffy could handle finding out that Angel had a baby with Darla. No way at all.  
  
Years ago, when Buffy and Angel had been in love and they’d known nothing about the curse, Willow had had many conversations about what it meant to be with a vampire and one of Buffy’s biggest regrets had been that they’d never be able to have kids together. Back then, being a mother had been something Buffy really wanted.  
  
Did she still? Willow wondered. Did she still have the same list of names picked out? The same dreams about what her children would grow up to be? Or had the dreams died, drained by the reality of life as a Slayer like the victims of the vampires she was born to slay?  
  
Willow realized she was crying and she struggled to regain her composure. Even in the haze of oblivion which enveloped the residents of Sunnydale, public tears didn’t always go unnoticed and she was still six blocks from her house.  
  
What had it been like for Buffy in Heaven? Yeah, Willow knew that they hadn’t exactly been honest with Buffy there, what with her thinking that everything had been hunky dory back home, but… what if they’d been protecting her, just like Willow was doing now? What if whoever was in charge there was only trying to give the best Slayer ever the best eternity ever? What if…  
  
She couldn’t think about that now. No, she had to think instead of the task ahead of her – and of the awesome and dangerous responsibility she was taking on.  
  
Magic. She would be using magic for the first time since…  
  
This time would be different, though. No more selfishness, no more power for its own sake, no more of the rush and the high. It was back to purity for her, back to why she’d set off on the journey in the first place, opening that door within her which she now realized had always been there. Because maybe she didn’t come from a long line of witches the way Tara did, but magic was part of her being all the same. Spike was right about that. It thrummed with the beat of her heart and ghosted against her skin. It was there, always there. She’d misused it and abused it, yes, but it hadn’t been ripped away from her. She’d been forgiven and now she had the chance to make amends.  
  
Opening the door to her house, she took a deep breath. Not long from now, they’d be leaving. Going to Los Angeles.  
  
Spike was waiting for her in the living room. “You all right?” he asked, obviously smelling the tears she’d shed, or maybe her skin was blotchy. It got that way when she cried.  
  
“They believed me,” she replied.  
  
“ ‘Course they believed you. Not what I asked.” He pulled her into his arms and held her close. “Know ya hate lying to ‘em, but it’s the right thing to do.”  
  
“I know,” she said softly, and she did, but that didn’t make it easier.  
  
Spike seemed to get that. “We’ve got time,” he whispered, before his lips took on the far more pleasant task of kissing her neck.  
  
“Mmmm,” she moaned, “We sure do.” Untucking his shirt from his jeans, her fingers found the skin underneath and began doing some very enjoyable exploring. She loved the way he felt – cool and smooth. He was perfect, so perfect.  
  
“Let’s take this upstairs,” he suggested, and she nodded her agreement. The couch was still sentimental, but the bed was a heck of a lot more comfy… and roomy.  
  
In what seemed like a nanosecond, here they were… and naked. She’d lost track of how many times her bra had been left on the stairs. Oh gosh, her panties were on the lamp. That was new.  
  
Of course, another nanosecond later, she was way past worrying about how her jeans wound up on the ceiling fan because Spike was inside her. This was never, ever going to stop feeling like a miracle. It was like he was a part of her that had been missing and now he was where he should be and… “Oh!” she cried. He was moving in that way where he kept hitting just – the – right – spot and it was all she could do to keep from screaming loud enough to be heard back at Giles’s house.  
  
Guess he was liking it too because he kept calling out her name and then… She shattered, and so did he and … “Spike!”  
  
What seemed like a century of colours and stars slowly faded and she lay panting with Spike beside her. “You’re driving,” she said, barely able to form words and thinking longingly of sleep.  
  
He chuckled, but there was a shrewdness to it that she managed to notice even with her brain still half-tapioca after that orgasm. Shoot. The driver got to pick the music, huh. Great. They’d be listening to the Sex Pistols all the way to Los Angeles. No way would she able to nap through that. Good thing she’d just had too much great sex to mind.  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	6. Chapter Six

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Six)  
  
  
  
One thing Willow had been wrong about? Her ability to sleep through Johnny Rotten screeching his way through ‘Pretty Vacant.’ Fabulous sex seemed to have worn her out enough to render her immune to its horrors, even though Spike had probably sung along the whole way, because she’d slept like a baby nearly the whole drive. Wow.  
  
It was a good thing, because she had a feeling she wasn’t going to be getting any restful sleep for a while.  
  
“Better get inside, get the unpleasantries over with,” Spike said, not remarking on the fact that she’d just woken up. Was he mad that she’d slept? He leaned over and kissed her so she guessed maybe she’d been wrong about that. It was then that she figured it out: He was nervous. Okay, she could understand that, because she was nervous too, for different reasons, but still… oh yeah, very nervous.  
  
After checking her face in the visor mirror to make sure she hadn’t drooled in her sleep, Willow put her hand on the door handle and said, “Let’s go.”  
  
Hand in hand, she and Spike walked into the Hyperion. It felt… empty. And yes, it was a big place and had not housed that many people even when she’d been here that one time before but it felt even emptier now. Weirdly, it was that very sense that once again brought home to her just how much magic was a part of her being.  
  
She was about to suggest they start looking around for Angel, when Spike’s voice boomed out, “Hey, Gramps! The cavalry’s here!” Well, that was a different solution to the problem of finding Angel, but it worked, because he emerged into the lobby in seconds. He was glowering, though, so maybe her idea would have been better.  
  
“Spike,” he greeted through gritted teeth. His tone warmed slightly when he nodded to her. “Willow. Thank you for coming.” Much to her shock he walked over and hugged her. She could hear Spike growl, but she hugged Angel back anyway.   
  
“You’re welcome,” Spike spat out. Grabbing Willow’s hand again and pulling her close the moment the hug ended. Good thing she didn’t really mind the whole ‘testosterone’ thing, huh?  
  
Well, she might mind a little. The staring contest between the two got old quickly. She didn’t feel much better when Angel ended it. “Can we talk?” He phrased it as a question, but it wasn’t, so with a quick kiss and a pleading look, she left Spike in the lobby and followed Angel to an office.  
  
“What’s this thing with you and Spike?”  
  
Hadn’t they already discussed this on the phone? They had. It was supposed to be over and done. Willow’s back was up now, and she was ready to defend her man. “It’s not all that complicated. I love him. He loves me.”  
  
Angel’s sharp bark of laughter made her angry on so many levels. “He can’t love, Willow. He doesn’t…”  
  
Oh no. He was so not going there. Willow cut him off. “I’m pretty sure we covered this already, but since you obviously didn’t get it the easy way… Just because you couldn’t love without a soul doesn’t mean he can’t. Spike loves me. He proves it every day. I trust him with my life. Also, because you need to know this, if it weren’t for Spike, I wouldn’t be here. He’s the one who convinced me I could use magic again and that I could do this for you.”  
  
Willow got the distinct impression that Angel would have collapsed to the floor if he could have figured out which way ‘down’ was. If only Spike could see the expression on his grandsire’s face. “Spike…”   
  
Angel’s voice was weak and indistinct and she took pity on him. After all, he was a man who’d lost his child. “Yeah, Spike.” She guided Angel to a chair and sat opposite him. “There’s some stuff you don’t know. About me. Well, there’s lots of stuff you don’t know about me, but what you need to know is the stuff you don’t know about me and magic and why I gave it up… and why I’m taking a big risk to save your son.”  
  
His eyes grew wide as she told the whole story, leaving out almost nothing. What happened with Tara was painful and she would never share it with anyone but Spike. What she did share, though – taking everyone’s memories, nearly killing Dawn – that was enough. When she was done, Angel was holding her hand and looking at her with something like awe. “I can’t believe you came back from that.”  
  
“Neither can I,” she admitted. “If it wasn’t for Spike…”  
  
He shook his head. “The chip must have changed him more than I thought.” He looked her straight in the eye. “I won’t make any problems for him here.”  
  
While it would have been better if Angel hadn’t given all the credit for Spike’s virtue to the chip, Willow decided that taking what she could get was the better part of valour. “Thanks,” she said.  
  
“No, thank _you_.” He seemed uncomfortable all of a sudden and stood up, running his hand through his hair. “I should show you guys to your room, let you get some sleep.”  
  
“I slept all the way here. If you don’t mind, I’d like to get a jump start on finding this spell. Don’t want the goddess to have a chance to change her mind or anything. Do you still have all those books or did…” She did not want to say Wesley’s name. Someday she’d get the whole story, but for now, knowing that this was all Wesley’s fault was enough. Guess he hadn’t changed much from the guy who’d thought it would be swell to sacrifice her to the Mayor and Faith after all.   
  
“I still have the books,” Angel replied. There was the ghost of something like a smile, a very weary one, but still, and Willow realized she’d made the right choice.   
  
“Let’s get Spike, then. He’s good at some languages I’m not totally fluent in.”  
  
This time, Willow led the way as they headed back to the lobby. “Hey!” she caroled as cheerily as she could. “Figured we should get cracking on the spell-hunting. Up for rooting through some dusty old books?” She gave Spike a tight hug and a kiss, which turned briefly passionate before they both decided to get back to business… or maybe it was just feeling awkward because Angel was staring. At least that might have been the case for _her_.  
  
Before Angel could show them where to go, though, it seemed he had something to say to Spike – and this time Willow was the one who would have collapsed if she could have remembered which way was ‘down’. “Willow told me. About the magic. And about what you did.” It was obviously with great effort that he said what came next, but he said it with sincerity. “Thank you. Thank you for trying to save my son.”  
  
Spike’s jaw clenched tight with emotion and Willow knew that, for all the times he’d tried to kill Angel and despite all the terrible things he’d done and said to and about him, his sire’s words meant a great deal. “Yeah, well, I’m not the one doin’ the saving. My girl’ll get it done, though, I can promise ya that.”  
  
Willow wanted to chide him for making that promise, but how could she? She’d made that same promise herself. Besides, if she didn’t have that same faith, she could never even try at all. Why else would she be allowed to use her powers again? They weren’t a toy; she knew that now. “Let’s get to work.”  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	7. Chapter Seven

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Seven)  
  
  
  
When Angel said he had all of Wesley’s books, Willow hadn’t dreamed the guy had such an extensive library. Where had he gotten them? She didn’t _think_ he’d swiped them from Giles’s stash, but had he? Well, if he had, she’d deal with that later. At first she hadn’t even been angry about it anyway, thinking at least this way it would be a snap to find the spell she needed, but now… She’d read through what felt like eight hundred volumes and her eyes were starting to cross. The Fyarl incantation Spike had begun translating had seemed promising but turned out to be species-specific and it had hurt to see the light go out of Angel’s – and Spike’s – eyes when they’d all realized that this wasn’t, in fact, the answer.  
  
Willow was starting to wonder if there was an answer after all, or if this was some sort of punishment – being sent here to torment Angel… and herself by being the source of lost hope and infinite pain. But then…  
  
You had to know it would be in Sumerian. “Guys?” she said tentatively, not sure she believed what was right before her eyes. “I think I’ve got it.” She read over it three more times. It was complicated – weren’t all Sumerian spells? – and involved some very convoluted dimensional portal shifting that made resurrecting Buffy seem like floating a pencil, but it was something she could do, as long as…  
  
As long as she could stay centered and pure and as long as the goddess would let her draw on all the power she needed. So, yeah, nothing to worry about – except everything.  
  
Spike was looking over her shoulder and she heard a low whistle. Obviously he knew enough Sumerian to get the gist of it. “Big spell,” he said softly, “but nothing you can’t do.”  
  
His confidence in her was sustaining. “Absolutely,” she affirmed with a glance at Angel.  
  
She looked over the spell again. The supplies she’d require were pretty basic – well, except for the gryphon toes, but she had contacts who could get those for her. Sacred sand, sage, magickal blend, etc. The usual for a big casting. She didn’t have to kill anything this time, for which she was so grateful. The memory of that deer still haunted her.   
  
Of course that didn’t mean lives weren’t at risk. If she lost herself, went off the rails again… She got up and pulled Spike over to a corner of the room where she hoped Angel couldn’t hear them. Spike’s eyes were full of questions as she spoke in a low but deadly serious voice. “If my eyes turn black… if I start to go evil…”  
  
“You won’t,” he interrupted.  
  
Putting her hand to his mouth she shook her head. “If I do, I want you to promise me something. I want you to promise to kill me.”  
  
Spike’s eyes shot wide and he shook his head. Her hand fell away from his mouth and he argued, “I’ll do anything but that.”  
  
Willow stood firm, resolute. This wasn’t open for negotiation. “I won’t do the spell unless you promise. Unless you mean it. I can’t take the risk.”  
  
There was the faint glint of tears in his eyes as he finally nodded. “I promise.”  
  
“Then I should be able to do the spell tomorrow night. I just need to get the supplies in the morning. Well, and make a phone call tonight. There’s one item that’s kind of special, not something they keep out for regular customers at any shop I’ve ever heard of.” That was an understatement. Nobody but a suicidal idiot would want gryphon toes used by an amateur. The unscrupulous – and Anya – might sell fakes, but most people would just tell anyone requesting them that they didn’t exist. “Angel?” she called out. “Can I use your phone?”  
  
  
  
The negotiations for the gryphon toes had been a bit tricky – Anya apparently was not the only one in the magic retail trade whose goddess was capitalism – but dropping the right names along with an employee hearing _her_ name and telling her boss that Willow had taken down Glory in battle did the trick and the real thing at an only mildly exorbitant price would be waiting for her at Pan Pipes in the morning. Thank heavens.  
  
But was she really grateful? Because this meant… She took a deep breath. The cause was as pure as could be. The goddess approved. Everything was going to be all right. It was.   
  
Angel was waiting out in the lobby when Willow emerged from the office. But where was… “He’s upstairs in your room,” Angel said, anticipating her question. “I wanted to talk to you.” Really? Why? She was nervous, but curious, so when he motioned for her to sit beside him on the big, round couch, she did. “I heard what you said to Spike.”  
  
Oh. Oh no. And hey, eavesdropping! “I didn’t mean for you to hear that.”  
  
He shrugged and she wasn’t sure if he was going to apologize or not, but he did. “I’m sorry. With everything that’s happened, I automatically… I trust you, I do. It’s just that…”  
  
“I get it.” She placed her hand over his. “You trusted him. Wesley, I mean.” Seeing Angel wince at the mention of the name, she hastened to offer an apology of her own. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”  
  
“That’s okay,” he said, trying to smile before his expression turned grave again. “What I wanted to say to you was that… if you can’t do this, if it’s really too risky…”  
  
A way out; as much as he wanted his son back, Angel was offering her a way out. Squeezing his hand, she shook her head. “I can do this. I was just preparing for the worst case scenario, okay?” Trying for lightheartedness, she continued, “Anyway, I’ve probably already used up all the badness I’m due for helping you.” Noticing the confused look on his face, she helpfully reminded him, “You know. The coma?”  
  
Okay, he was still confused. “What coma?”  
  
“When I tried the soul restoration spell the first time.” No look of recognition. Oh goddess. “Didn’t Buffy tell you?” He shook his head and Willow felt her stomach fall to somewhere around her ankles. What she’d thought would be a jesting reference to old times had turned into a guilt trip and her molars ached from having her foot jammed between them. “I’m sorry,” she offered lamely. “I kind of thought you knew.” Her hand tightened over his again. “I shouldn’t have said anything. It was a really, really minor coma. Honest. It was more like a nap.” She plastered on her best perky grin, hoping it helped.  
  
It really didn’t. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I had no idea… everything you’ve done for me…”  
  
“What are friends for?” She smiled, more naturally this time. “I mean it. I want to do this for you. Connor belongs with his father, not in Quor’toth.” That was an understatement. She couldn’t imagine leaving a child in that terrible place. The more she thought about it, the more she reasoned that this all had to come right in the end – how could the universe want a little boy to be trapped in that hell?  
  
Getting up, she stretched and said, “I better go upstairs, get some rest. I’m gonna need all the energy I can build up.”  
  
Angel stood as well. “I’ll show you to your room. I should probably check in on Fred.”  
  
“She’s still here?”  
  
“Yeah.” Angel took her arm and led her to the staircase. “She won’t be a problem, will she?”  
  
“No, no. You might want to keep her out of the room, though, in case…”  
  
“The room?”  
  
“Oh. Yeah. I forgot to tell you that we need to be where Connor’s presence was the strongest when he was in this dimension and, since he’s a baby, I’m guessing that’s one of the rooms here, right?”  
  
“My room.”   
  
He really was a doting, hands-on kind of dad, wasn’t he? Where had she slept when she was a baby? Had her parents stood over her crib the way she knew Angel stood over his son’s? How would they have felt if she’d been kidnapped?  
  
Ugh. No melancholy thoughts. She needed to stay strong and focused.   
  
A moment later, she was at the door to the room she was sharing with Spike, and she gave Angel a quick hug. “It’s gonna be all right. Connor will be home soon.”  
  
Her hand was on the door knob but Angel was staring at her and she wondered why. “You’re an extraordinary woman, Willow.” He looked down awkwardly for a moment and then added, “Spike’s a lucky man.” With that, he headed back down the hall toward his own room and she was left standing there thinking that was possibly the strangest thing he’d ever said to her.  
  
With a shrug, she opened the door. Spike was sitting on the bed. “Everything okay?”  
  
“Oh yeah. He overheard what I said to you, that’s all. But everything’s still on for tomorrow.”  
  
“Guess that means we’ll be sleeping.” Spike was right; she needed all her energy, every bit of it, so sex was off the menu until Connor was home where he belonged… and Willow had recovered from bringing him here.  
  
“Do you mind?”  
  
He chuckled. “’Course I mind. But I can do without for a good cause.” Gesturing toward the bags, he said, “Even packed one of those ghastly things you used to sleep in. Figured you might need it.”  
  
Giving him a soft kiss, she went straight for the suitcase and opened it. Yes, her sleepshirt was right on top. He was so thoughtful and understanding – and yeah, she definitely needed something of the un-sexy variety tonight. Finding her toothbrush and toothpaste in one of the compartments, she was about to head into the bathroom when Spike’s next words stopped her short. “Angel was right, you know. I’m lucky ta have you.”  
  
“You heard that?”  
  
“Vampire, love.”  
  
She walked back over to the bed and kissed him again, more passionately this time. “I’m the lucky one,” she said firmly. Then she went straight to the bathroom and shut the door before he could argue.   
  
When she came back out, he was lying in bed, pretending to sleep. She climbed in beside him without a word. Amazingly, despite his wakefulness and her nerves, she was snoring in no time. The universe, it seemed, was firmly on the side of her being prepared.  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	8. Chapter 8

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Eight)  
  
  
  
Sacred sand? Check. Gryphon toes? Check. Nervous witch shaking like a sapling in a hurricane? Check. She grabbed Spike’s hand and drew in a deep breath before letting it out and cheating a glance over at Angel, who was, if possible, even paler than usual.  
  
Closing her eyes, she took another breath, concentrating on the feel of Spike’s hand against hers, on the trust she could feel through each of his fingers. Breathe in, breathe out. She let go of her fear and let the blessing of the goddess fill her. This was right; this was what she’d been given power for in the first place.  
  
She opened her eyes and smiled softly. “I’m ready.”  
  
Drawing her circle, she sat cross-legged on the floor and Spike and Angel immediately sat on either side of her. Her other ingredients were laid out before her. Time to get this show on the road.  
  
When she felt that everyone was calm, she took their hands – Spike’s for grounding and Angel’s to help her guide Connor home. She opened her mouth and…  
  
The spell just emerged from her in a voice she didn’t recognize as if she herself didn’t need to perform the act of speaking. It was almost exactly like when she’d performed the soul restoration. She was being controlled by something greater than herself and she gave in, allowing it to use her to work the will of the goddess.   
  
Forces began to swirl and the room filled with light and fog and it shook as if there was an earthquake, but Willow never wavered and she held fast to Spike and Angel’s hands. A wave of power swept through them all like an electric shock and for a brief moment it felt as if their flesh had been fused before she began to come back to herself. The last words that came from her lips were in English, and were in her own voice. “I call the child home!” she cried, and then it happened. The air seemed to rip and a portal opened and a small baby in the arms of a very surprised man appeared, the man was held fast by the vortex and the baby was pulled from him, tumbling to the ground.   
  
An inhuman scream of “No!” before the man was swallowed back into the rapidly closing portal… sort of. Because part of him? Didn’t make it back to Quor’toth. Outside of the circle lay the head, the very bloody and angry-looking head of…  
  
“Holtz,” Spike offered softly before turning his eyes on the baby, who seemed completely uninjured – even unaware that he had fallen.   
  
Waiting only a second for Willow’s nod, Angel immediately grabbed the boy and held him close. There were tears in his eyes and Willow would have been too overwhelmed for speech except for one small problem. “Am I the only one who needs to barf?” she whimpered, before getting up and stumbling to a trash can in the corner just in time.   
  
Her nausea was so violent that it took a moment to register that Spike was holding her hair back. “There, there, pet. That was a bit of a ride you took us all on. Makes sense you’d be sick.”  
  
Finally, her stomach decided it had disgorged enough of its contents and, after a wan smile at the man she loved, she was able to get up and go into the bathroom to rinse her mouth out. She’d never been so grateful for the fact that vampires, like humans, used mouthwash. There was no way Angel would begrudge her a swig of his Listerine.   
  
Vomiting and residual dizziness aside, she felt very good. Connor was home – where he belonged – with his father. Then she remembered the head lying on the carpet just outside the circle of sacred sand. Oh goddess. Just because he was evil, it didn’t mean Willow felt good or even justified about beheading him, not – she acknowledged somewhat grudgingly – that it was actually her fault. The spell had been in in Sumerian, a tricky language on a good day. Missing the fine print, if there even was any, didn’t make her a monster.  
  
Did it?  
  
She went over and over everything in her mind and she knew she’d followed the instructions to the letter… well, up until the incantation, after which her participation, strictly speaking, wasn’t really all that conscious. Anyway, the goddess had given her blessing and surely she knew that when gryphon toes were involved, carnage had a tendency to follow.  
  
Or was Willow just playing her old games and trying to sell herself on the idea that she wasn’t doing any real harm?  
  
Turning on the tap, Willow leaned over the sink and splashed cold water on her face. The startling sensation brought back memories of another very recent shock and now she had a whole new set of worries.  
  
There had been… something. She didn’t know what it was, but it was definitely something. Something big and important that had happened in that brief flash of flesh knitted into flesh – hers and Spike’s, yes, but also hers and Angel’s.  
  
Her thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock. “Willow? Love?” She reached over and opened the door.  
  
“I’m okay. Just needed mouthwash and cold water.” With some effort, she managed a smile, but Spike wasn’t having it.  
  
“You didn’t go the least bit evil, pet. What happened to that Holtz bastard? Nothing to do with you. Hell, the blighter took himself off to the darkest dimension there is. He was bound to be eviscerated sooner or later, and my money would have been on sooner with or without you trying to get Connor back – which you did, by the way, and frankly, you ought get back out there before Angel realizes what an utter prat he’s acting and you miss the full show. He’s singing a _lullaby_.”  
  
Following Spike, Willow walked back into the bedroom and… What do you know? Angel really _was_ singing a lullaby. If you could call what he was doing singing, anyway. Unlike Spike, however, who was doing his best to stifle what was probably hearty laughter, Willow was more touched than amused by the sight of Angel – big, strong Angel – cradling his son in his arms with a gentleness that astonished her and gazing at him as if nothing more precious had ever existed.   
  
Angel stopped singing when he noticed she was there and there was the shine of tears in his eyes. “Thank you,” he choked out. “Thank you for saving my son.”  
  
She shrugged, not sure what to say, but Angel was already cooing at his son again, so maybe it didn’t matter. Still, she thought he should know something. “Connor might be a little bit younger than when he left. Part of the spell was realigning the continuum so that… Well, it’s complicated, but basically Connor is the same as he was when he was last in this room.”  
  
Spike was behind her now, and his arms wound around her waist; she leaned back against him.   
  
When his hand was over hers, she remembered again about that strange sensation. Maybe they should talk about it.  
  
Or not – at least right now. Suddenly, she began feeling an adrenaline crash even bigger than the ones that usually accompanied a really big casting. Guess being out of practice really made a difference, huh? “If you have any questions or anything, you can ask me later. If it’s okay, I kinda need to go lie down now.” With that, her legs began to give out. Good thing Spike was right there to hold her up.  
  
“It’s okay, pet. I’ll get you there.” With that, he picked her up, and against her weak protests, carried her out of Angel’s room.   
  
She was out cold before she even reached the bed.  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	9. Chapter 9

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Nine)  
  
  
  
When she woke up, Willow felt as if she had been hit by a truck and her mouth tasted like minty-fresh vomit, but Spike was beside her, gazing at her, and that made it all much better. “How long have you been with me?” she asked groggily.   
  
“About twenty hours.”  
  
She’d been out that long? And he’d just stayed here? “Didn’t you get hungry or anything?”  
  
“One of Angel’s gang brought me a couple of mugs of something. Wasn’t leavin’ ya.” It suddenly hit her that he’d been worried and didn’t want to say it. He knew she hated being treated like some fragile damsel.  
  
“I’m okay, I promise.” To add credibility to that statement, she sat up, but when Spike moved toward her as if to kiss her, she put her hand up to stop him.   
  
He instantly looked concerned. “What’s wrong?”  
  
Okay, embarrassing much? “My breath. It’s all icky.”  
  
“Love, I’ve shagged Harmony. I think your breath pales in comparison.” And with that, he kissed her. She was so grateful it was just on the lips. Had tongues come into play… well, he might be thinking fondly of Harmony.  
  
After the kiss, she excused herself and went to the bathroom, where she brushed her teeth with maniacal thoroughness… twice. Once she no longer tasted the aftereffects of the spell, she emerged. She and Spike had stuff to talk about, so she kept her expression serious. “Do you remember feeling anything… weird during the spell last night?”  
  
Spike’s expression clouded slightly and his brow furrowed. “Thought it was supposed to feel that way.”  
  
“Well, yeah. I mean the fog and the room shaking and stuff was pretty much standard” – And you know? How bizarre was it that she could say that? And that it was true? – “But what I meant was the whole ‘flesh knitting together’ thing. Did you even feel that, by the way? Or was it just me?”  
  
“Felt it. Like I said, thought it was part and parcel of the hocus pocus.”  
  
“Maybe…” she offered, trying to play it off. But she sounded way too uncertain, even to herself. No way was Spike buying it.  
  
“It wasn’t, was it.” He wasn’t asking… and she wasn’t going to lie to him.  
  
“No, I don’t think so. It felt like something different.” She knew there was a question he wanted to ask, but didn’t, and she knew she had to tell him. One thing she’d learned the hard way was that keeping secrets was bad. “I felt the same thing with Angel’s hand.”  
  
Spike didn’t seem very pleased by that revelation. Sitting down beside him, Willow tried some damage control. “It’s not like I feel anything strange or bad – except for the massive barfing. Do you?” He shook his head and Willow tried to feel encouraged. “I could have been wrong just now, you know. Maybe it really _was_ part of the spell and it was just a manifestation of the three of us joined to bring Connor back. It’s probably nothing.”  
  
“Yeah. Bet you’re right. You’re the witch, after all.” But he didn’t believe her and she knew it. Heck, she didn’t believe herself either. She just wished she knew what it meant.  
  
“Who else is here?” she asked, desperate to change the subject.  
  
“Some guy with a shaved head – think his name’s Gunn, that Fred girl, and some green chap with horns and a suit so bloody awful it makes Angel look like the glass of fashion and the mold of form.” Willow giggled at Spike’s japery.   
  
“C’mon, Angel’s not that bad.” Her mind drifted back to that night at the goth club and that tragic satin shirt. “Okay, not always,” she amended.  
  
“Love, he may be family, but he’s nothing but a mess of hair gel and appallingly baggy trousers.”  
  
“He’s gotten better,” she argued, wondering why Spike cared so much about the fit of Angel’s pants anyway. It brought her back to the way he’d reacted when he’d overheard her ask… Oh gosh. “You and Angel used to have a ‘thing’, huh?” she blurted out without thinking, instantly wishing she hadn’t.  
  
That sharp bark of laughter was familiar, and it rang with the discomfort Spike used it to hide. “Don’t know if I’d call it that. I’m a vampire, love. We’ll shag just about anything if we’re bored and got nothin’ else to do.”  
  
Willow knew better, at least when it came to Spike. Harmony, she knew well, was the exception and not the rule. She didn’t call him on it, though, just letting the knowledge sink in and make so much sense out of the chaos and anger between Spike and Angel. What was it she’d told Xander so long ago when she’d walked in on and him and Cordelia? ‘You two were fighting way too much.’ She should have guessed that this situation was much the same. And hey – shouldn’t her gaydar have worked better?   
  
What should she say now, though?  
  
When in doubt, joke. She’d learned that from Xander. Speaking of which… “So does that mean that you slept with Xander?”  
  
The look of melodramatic horror on his face was priceless. “Bite your tongue!”  
  
Giggling, she countered, “You said you’d shag anything.”  
  
“ _Almost_ anything.”  
  
“Xander’s better than Harmony.”  
  
“Says the girl who’s never had to live with the bloody moron and his snoring and his pedestrian porn collection.”  
  
“You went through Xander’s porn collection?”  
  
“Stuck in that basement all bleedin’ day? You’re damn right! I went through every possession he had – and a sad lot of nothing that was. Comic books? Bloody hell! He had more of those than he did of Playboy. You might be right wondering if he’d shag another bloke, but he wasn’t shaggin’ me.”  
  
The very disturbing thought that Anya would probably enjoy seeing Xander do just that flashed across Willow’s mind. Why had she gone off on this tangent in the first place? The days when imagining Xander naked had been enjoyable had long since passed.   
  
Just then, there was an odd growl and it took Willow a moment to realize that it was coming from her – specifically her stomach. Guess it was missing everything it had lost a few hours ago. Spike realized the same thing. “I think we should get you down to the kitchen and see about fixing you a meal. I’m not the only one who has to eat around here.”  
  
Getting up, he held out his hand and she took as she joined him in standing and then heading out the door into the hotel. She was going to express surprise at Angel having food and then – duh – she remembered that Fred lived here and that humans spent a lot of time with Angel these days. It was very different than the way things were back in Sunnydale.  
  
What was he like now? Did he talk about stuff? Make jokes? Ask people how their day was going? Remember their birthdays?  
  
Why did she even care? She and Spike were probably going back to Sunnydale in a few hours and the next time they saw Angel would be because of some apocalypse or something – same old, same old.   
  
Or maybe not. She and Spike – and yes, Spike was very much a part of this – had saved Angel’s son. Okay, yes, she’d saved his _soul_ before and that had made no difference at all, but this time… yeah, maybe they could all be friends. Or something like that, anyway.  
  
Then her mind went back to Spike and Angel’s ‘thing’ and she wondered if Spike was okay with being friends with Angel at all. Would it be too difficult for him?  
  
She’d think about all this later, after she’d eaten. Just the sight of the fridge had set her stomach growling again and she went rooting through its contents, desperate for something which didn’t require complex preparation - or _any_ preparation for that matter. Yes! There was an apple! Perfect! Minor usage of teeth was all that was needed.   
  
Spike was chuckling at her as she bit into the crispy red fruit and she realized she was making some odd noises – ones which would make someone listening outside the room suspect that something a lot more naked was going on in this kitchen. Sue her. She had just realigned dimensions. Her tummy needed refilling. Fast.  
  
“Think I heard those same sounds recently. But ya weren’t eating… an apple.” Yeah, she was right about what she sounded like obviously. Oh goddess. She was blushing now, wasn’t she? It didn’t stop her from polishing off the apple in record time, though, despite the way Spike stared at her, licking his lips. “Got somethin’ else I’d like you to work on with that mouth, pet.” She glared at him, but said nothing. She was still too hungry to think about sex, so she headed back into the fridge in search of more food.  
  
As she was rooting around, humming tunelessly, she heard someone else come into the kitchen so, with a pang, she stopped what she was doing and turned around. Spike had already greeted their visitor with a friendly ‘hey’, but when she turned around, the guy didn’t look so friendly at all. Not because of the green face or the horns, but because he… just didn’t look friendly. Which made no sense. She knew this guy. “Hi, Lorne,” she caroled, hoping to jog his memory. They’d met when she’d shown up to tell everyone that Buffy had died.  
  
He smiled, but even with his demonic features, she could tell it wasn’t sincere and she didn’t get it. Maybe he associated her with bad news. Now would be a good time to associate herself with some _good_ news. “Have you seen Connor? He’s back now.”  
  
The smile transformed and Willow figured she had been right on the money. “Angelcakes told me you were the magician who whipped up the mojo for that.” A second later, he hugged her, and Willow was sort of confused, but hey – at least he didn’t seem annoyed with her anymore. Spike was also chuckling at ‘Angelcakes’ and Willow was pretty sure he’d be calling Angel that very soon. So all was well, right?  
  
When the embrace ended, Willow expected Lorne to get himself some food or talk to them some more. She was wrong. “Well, cupcake, I better get along. See you around.” With that, he headed out, muttering under his breath just as he was out the door.   
  
Spike turned to her with a confused look on his face and asked, “What the hell was that all about? And what did he mean by it’s not your fault?”  
  
  
To be continued…


	10. Chapter 10

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Ten)  
  
  
  
A few minutes of befuddled conversation and she and Spike finally decided that Lorne’s muttered comment referred to the severed head he’d obviously heard about. Not all demons enjoyed blood and death the way her vampire boyfriend did – look at Clem.   
  
“I still wish I hadn’t killed him,” Willow sighed, remembering the way Holtz’s eyes had looked straight as her as his head had been ripped from his body by the closing of the portal.  
  
Spike pulled her close. “Now, now, pet. Thought we’d already gotten it straight that you didn’t kill that bloke. Killed himself, really, when ya think about it – mucking about with Quor’toth and kidnapping Angel’s boy. He played a demon’s game and he paid for it. Seems like balance is all.”  
  
It made sense, Spike’s argument, but Willow was gun shy about any kind of absolution. After all, she could see herself in the mirror. If it looked like a bad witch and acted like a bad witch… But at least this time she hadn’t hurt really good people like Buffy. Or Dawn.  
  
Or Tara.  
  
She sighed again, leaning against her love and finding herself feeling oddly averse to the idea of returning to Sunnydale. How silly was that? She’d done what she came here to do, she barely knew anyone here – besides Angel, anyway – and she was needed at home. It was time for them to go back, wasn’t it?   
  
“Guess we’ll be heading off tonight,” Spike said, echoing her thoughts. Was it her imagination or did he sound as ambivalent as she felt?  
  
Not really sure what to do, she tentatively offered, “We haven’t really had the chance to talk to Angel, you know, make peace like I said we were going to do.”  
  
Obviously, she’d said the right thing because Spike smiled slightly. “Wouldn’t want to make a liar out of ya. Suppose we could stay another day. The town’ll still be standing when we get back.”  
  
Spike took her hand and they headed upstairs to Angel’s room, figuring he’d be there with his son. They were right. A knock on the door elicited a soft “Come in,” and they saw Angel cradling his boy.  
  
It tugged at Willow’s heartstrings, the love that Angel so clearly felt for this tiny little being.   
  
Funny – as much as Buffy had always talked in the past about having children, Willow herself had never considered the possibility, not even when she was with Oz. She wasn’t thinking of it now, either, not for herself, but this was the first of her… well, she guessed she could call Angel a friend, and he was the first to have a child. Plus, well, even to a Hellmouth girl, the idea of a vampire having a baby was pretty unexpected and she was marveling at it. “He kind of looks like you.” She’d said it without thinking, as a commonplace, but now that she really paid attention to the kid… you know, Connor really did sort of look like a mini Angel. It was strange. “Guess you guys are both doing okay,” Willow added, understating the obvious.  
  
Angel stared, his eyes boring into her. “Thank you,” he said in a tone that invested those words with far more meaning than they usually held. Which made sense since retrieving his son was a lot more important than most favours she’d ever done for people. Plus, maybe he was doubling up since he’d never really thanked her for the whole ‘returning his soul’ thing.   
  
You know, she seemed to be in the habit of returning lost and stolen stuff to him. It made her wish… but no, she’d never found a way to make his soul stay so that he and Buffy could be together.  
  
Spike was looking everywhere but at Angel and the baby and Willow reached over and took his hand. She got it. He was remembering his mother, how much she’d loved and cared for him… and remembering how he’d returned that love by transforming her into a demon – and then into dust. And maybe a part of him was envying Connor for how much Angel loved him. Angel, who had been Spike’s lover, but also – in a weird, demonic sense – his father.   
  
The envy she could relate to, and too, the reminder of just how much the desire to hold onto any kind of love could lead you to do the most terrible of deeds with the purest of intentions. It had made her more dangerous than any foe they’d ever faced. It had led Spike to do something for which even a soulless demon couldn’t forgive himself.   
  
But love had given them both… Extraordinary thing, love. It was the basest and most insidious of temptations and the brightest and boldest of saviours.   
  
“You’re welcome,” she suddenly said, realizing she’d become lost in the labyrinth of her thoughts and had neglected her manners.   
  
Okay, now that the pleasantries were out of the way, and without a new crisis to discuss, Willow had no idea what to say. Suppose it was wing it or nothing. “So… uh… you cleaned up everything, huh?” She indicated where the circle – and the severed head – had been when she’d last been here.  
  
“Yeah.” To her surprise, Angel walked over to the crib in the corner and laid the baby in it. The boy cooed, but didn’t cry when Angel left him there. “He needs some sleep,” Angel said in a low voice, before guiding the two of them out of the room.   
  
So – here they were. In the hallway. It was still awkward. Spike was the first to speak. “Never took you for the fatherly type before. You’re not bad with the kid.” Willow’s heart ached at the hint of bitterness in his tone; she’d been right that envy was part of the mix of emotions her guy was feeling and she wished she could soothe it away.   
  
Much to her surprise – and gratitude – Angel either ignored or didn’t perceive the undercurrent and took the compliment straight. “Thanks,” he said with an almost bashful shrug, his hand going to the back of his neck. Guess this was weird for him too. That only made it a better idea, she supposed, that she and Spike stay an extra day. There was too much history between all of them for things to stay so strained. It was time to… well, do something. Become friends, actual friends, maybe.  
  
Before she could say anything, though, Spike got there ahead of her. “My girl and I thought maybe we’d stay here another day or so. Hell, you’ve got the room. We could use the break from Sunnydale and more bloody tales of connubial bliss from Xander’s demon chit.” Well, he hadn’t characterized it the way she would have, but maybe it was better that he said it in _his_ words. She had a disturbing tendency to sound like something from one of her mother’s lectures on ‘open communication.’ Memories of that intervention she’d led still made her gag with contempt at her own silliness and pretension.  
  
Besides, the dig at Xander seemed to have struck a chord with Angel and he and Spike actually shared a chuckle. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you want.” It was clear that he meant it and the fact that he looked at Spike first when he said it… She was so glad of that. Spike deserved some recognition from his sire. It was a bond she realized he needed.   
  
Was that what the feeling of flesh melding with flesh during the spell meant? Was it about Angel and Spike and was she just the conduit through which it passed?  
  
“Are you hungry?” Angel asked out of the blue.  
  
Willow shook her head and was about to tell him about the apple she’d eaten when Spike once again cut in ahead of her. “Yeah, she could stand a decent supper.” She glared and he chided her. “Love, an apple is not a meal. Thought we’d discussed you eating proper food and not just snacking or eating that cheap garbage you lot order in.” Okay, yes they had, but she didn’t think this was the appropriate place or time to rehash that argument. Besides, pizza and Doritos had sustained her just fine up to now and she saw no need to alter her eating habits.  
  
Angel, unfortunately, seemed to be siding with Spike. “I know a great restaurant. Musso and Frank’s. They owe me a favour, so for once you’ll eat something delivered that isn’t pizza.” She stared. “What?” he asked. “I remember what you ate.” She was completely shocked until she figured out that ‘you’ probably translated to ‘Buffy’ and then it wasn’t so bizarre.  
  
“’bout time she ate something that didn’t come out of a bloody microwave,” Spike agreed and she felt ganged-up-on.  
  
Then she felt guilty. Angel had said this was a great restaurant and implied that they didn’t normally deliver. It had to be expensive. “I have money,” she offered. The look Angel gave her made her feel guiltier than ever. He seemed… hurt.  
  
“I’m paying.” His voice was curt as he headed for the stairs and without turning back to look at them, he added, “I’ll make the call. The food should be here in about an hour or so.”   
  
Spike put his arm around her waist and they followed him down to the lobby. She had never heard of Musso and Frank’s. Obviously they weren’t a chain or anything, at least not one she knew about. Should she say something about what she liked or just let Angel order?   
  
“Umm… Angel?” she asked as they reached the phone, “What kind of food do they serve?”  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	11. Chapter 11

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Eleven)  
  
  
  
Dinner had been a quiet affair and Willow sensed that her innocent offer to pay had really bugged Angel. The thing was, she didn’t really get it. Okay, maybe a _little_ miffed she could understand, but he was brooding – actually _brooding_. “I’m going up to check on my son.” With those words, and without giving Willow a chance to swallow her last bite of Chicken Provençale, Angel left her with Spike in the lobby and hurried back upstairs.  
  
Once her mouth was no longer full, she turned to Spike and said, “He seems really mad. I’m gonna go apologize, okay?”  
  
For a moment she almost thought he was going to object, though she didn’t quite get why, but the closest he came to forbidding her was, “Hurry back or I’m gonna eat all the key lime pie.” Still, his threat sounded half-hearted and not nearly as playful as usual and Willow was concerned.  
  
Should she say something? Considering how badly she’d been doing with words in the past hour or so – and realizing that if she had any _good_ ones, she needed them to use on Angel – she decided against it, electing instead to give Spike a passionate, if brief, kiss.   
  
Maybe she shouldn’t have done that, since just this one kiss made her want to forget about the apology and drag Spike back to the room so they could catch up on all the sex that the necessities of magic had denied them the past few days. It would have to wait, though. If she was going to help Spike mend fences with Angel, it would help if she didn’t leave her own in disrepair. “I’ll be right back. Promise.”  
  
She climbed the quite ostentatious staircase and went straight to Angel’s room and was about to knock when... Oh gosh. Was the baby asleep? More importantly, did he have super vamp hearing like his parents? All her questions were made moot when Angel opened the door. “Connor’s asleep,” he said softly, before she could even ask… a really stupid question. Of course he knew she was there. Super vamp senses. Duh.  
  
“Can we talk?” she almost whispered.  
  
Wheels turned behind his eyes – why, she still didn’t understand – before he nodded, gently closing his door behind him as he guided her down the hall to another empty room. Guess that was one advantage to living in a hotel.   
  
As soon as they were inside, she blurted out, “I’m sorry. I mean, I’m not sure what for since I was just trying to be nice, but it made you mad, so…” Her voice trailed off. Angel was staring. Just staring. It was unnerving and also not so easy to decipher what the heck he was thinking. Guess she really _didn’t_ have any good words. Boy was she glad she hadn’t said anything but the very basic stuff to Spike.  
  
The silence lasted longer than she liked but she wasn’t as good at babbling to fill the empty corners as she’d been once upon a time, and anyway, words had gotten her into this mess to begin with. She should probably be sparing with them now.  
  
“I’m not angry.” And you know? For a demon, Angel was a really crappy liar.  
  
“Could have fooled me.”  
  
The fact that she hadn’t bought his fib seemed to take him aback and she realized that he didn’t know her – not anymore. To him, she was still the geek with the braids and the fluffy sweaters who got tongue-tied around boys. Oh, he knew _about_ the changes she’d gone through, but they hadn’t pierced the armour of the image he still had of who she was.  
  
“I might have been. I didn’t…” His voice trailed off and he made some nervous gesture with his hand in his hair. The hand that had been part of hers for a second like an eternity.   
  
If he was looking at her and seeing tenth grade nerd, she was looking at him in a completely different way. For the first time – or at least it felt that way – she wasn’t seeing the Romeo to Buffy’s Juliet. She was seeing Angel, just Angel, and yeah, he wasn’t the same vampire she’d thought she’d known back in Sunnydale. She didn’t know _who_ he was, really, but she knew he wasn’t who he’d once been.  
  
“The chicken was really good,” she finally said, growing increasingly uncomfortable with her thoughts. Their eyes met and… She had no idea what it was she just felt, but she could see he felt it too and she was unnerved by that.   
  
“Musso & Frank’s is legendary. Charlie Chaplin ate there.” His tone was superior and she guessed he wasn’t over being the angry that he hadn’t quite admitted to being.   
  
“Oh.” She had to admit that she was a bit cowed by how venerable the place was, but what was she supposed to say? Well, maybe this would help. “Sounds really, really swanky. Guess I should have realized that after trying that Chicken Provençale. I’ve never eaten anything like it before. I probably couldn’t have afforded to pay after all.” She’d been about to make some crack about it beating the chicken tenders at the Doublemeat, but she decided against it. Angel really didn’t seem to be in the mood to appreciate jokes.  
  
He did, however, seem to appreciate her admitting that the meal was out of her league, well sort of, anyway. “What you did merited something a bit classier than what you’re used to.”   
  
Ouch. Nice dig at her still-teenage eating habits. It also hit the part of her that still resented the fact that her parents never took her with them when they went out to dinner. Not once. Which for reasons she couldn’t begin to fathom, she suddenly admitted. “My parents never took me to any restaurants.”  
  
Maybe it hadn’t been a bad idea since Angel now seemed a whole lot less superior – and less angry.  
  
“Never?”  
  
“No. They weren’t really into the whole togetherness thing. It’s okay though. It was always like that so it never bothered me.” She smiled as she lied and hoped he bought it.  
  
Naturally, he didn’t. There was an odd look on his face – one part ‘a-ha!’ and another part concern mixed with a final something she couldn’t name at all. “You’ve never been part of a family before, have you?”  
  
Okay, that was sort of uncalled for. “I have Xander and Buffy and Dawn and Giles. They’re as much my family as any blood relatives could be. And now I have Spike.” That last was delivered with vehemence and conviction, because Spike was as much family to her as anyone had ever been. She loved him with everything she had and Angel needed to open his eyes and see Spike as something more than just an occasional adversary and a remnant of his soulless past. After all, the two of them really _were_ family.  
  
It was right then that she realized that Angel’s eyes had flickered when she said ‘blood.’ It was a startling reminder that, inside, he was more like Spike than he’d like to admit.   
  
All the men she’d ever dated had been demons, hadn’t they? Not that she’d ever dated… and why the heck had she even thought about that now?   
  
Angel was staring at her again and she really, really wanted to leave, except – no, she didn’t, and that was just… weird.   
  
“Spike,” Angel repeated back to her, and it irked her because she had a hunch what was next – and how many times was she going to have to deal with it? He had started this talk about blood. She was going to finish it.  
  
“”Look, Angel, I know you two have issues, but speaking of family – he’s yours, you know? As much as Connor is. Don’t you think it’s time you gave him a chance?”   
  
Angel seemed utterly taken aback by what she’d said, but at the same time, she could see something behind those brown eyes. “You really love him, don’t you?”  
  
Locking eyes with him, she answered with an emphatic “Yes.”  
  
His eyes flickered again and she wanted to look away, but she didn’t. For a moment, she even thought he was about to touch her. “Maybe there’s more of William left in him than I thought.” With that, he abruptly walked out of the room, leaving Willow standing there in utter confusion.  
  
What the heck had just happened?  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	12. Chapter 12

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Twelve)  
  
  
  
Spike hadn’t actually eaten all the key lime pie, which sort of shocked Willow once she took a bite because it was easily the most delicious dessert she’d ever eaten. So this was fine dining, huh? Maybe she was being childish, but between the elegant and tasty chicken and the outrageously delectable dessert she was madder at her parents now for leaving her at home every time they went to fancy restaurants. She’d never known food could be this good. The pie was gone almost before she realized it.  
  
“Don’t worry, pet. We’ll be eatin’ like this again.”   
  
Had he read her mind? Or did Spike just know her better than anyone ever had. “I love you.”  
  
He smiled. “I love you, too.” After a short pause, he finally asked the question she’d honestly expected before now. “So how’d things go with the King of Brood up there?”  
  
How to answer that. “Weird. I mean… yeah, weird.” She didn’t know what else to say. It wasn’t as if she wanted to tell him about her plea for Angel to treat Spike more like family. If it happened, she knew it would be so much better if Spike believed it was spontaneous.  
  
Spike really did know her because he was giving her that shrewd look, the one that said he knew there was stuff she wasn’t saying. Sadly, she’d grown somewhat past the extreme babbling ways of her youth and it wouldn’t work to try to hide herself in a torrent of words. Sometimes there was a downside to self-confidence and maturity. “He has some different ideas about family than me, that’s all,” she offered.  
  
That sharp bark of laughter she’d heard when Spike had heard her discussing her bisexuality with Angel was back. “You don’t know how different by half, pet.” At first she was a bit nonplussed, but then she remembered the whole grandfather/mentor/lover thing with Angel and Spike and she blushed. Okay, yeah, maybe she should have phrased her observation slightly different because that wasn’t quite what she meant.  
  
Her expression turned serious. “He doesn’t see Buffy and Xander and Dawn and Giles as my family,” she clarified.  
  
“He wouldn’t,” but Spike said it in a way that said he disagreed. “He’s not much for human ties. Sure, he’s got his little bunch of cohorts here, but what happened with that wannabe Watcher tells me there’s not much trust goin’ on between ‘em.”   
  
Willow wanted to disagree, but then she remembered the way things were with Angel back in Sunnydale and she found it hard to fault Spike’s observation. For all that Angel was the one with the soul, Spike was so much more… human.  
  
Oh god. She was never, ever going to say that out loud.   
  
It was true, though. Despite the fact that Spike’s association with them had been born of necessity and been mired in mutual antipathy and distrust for a long time, he’d somehow become part of the group in a way Angel never had, not even before he lost his soul. Heck, Spike had tried to kill them all and he was still… and here she was, head over heels in love with him – and he with her, she knew that too.  
  
Angel had once had Buffy, but that was it. Was he close to Gunn? Or Fred? Because obviously he and Wesley had issues that predated Connor’s abduction. And then…  
  
Wait a minute – where was… “Has Angel said anything to you about Cordelia?”  
  
Spike’s eyes widened. “No. But yeah, guess I never thought about it, but shouldn’t that dim cheerleader have come around by now?”  
  
Maybe she should have objected to Spike’s characterization of Cordelia, seeing as how she’d been told her old nemesis had changed and grown since becoming a seer, but… yeah, high school memories died hard. Plus, that ‘lesbo’ remark still rankled. Lesbo? Really? Who said things like that? It was like Cordelia had learned bigotry from a seventies movie.   
  
“Maybe she’s on Wesley’s side?” Willow hypothesized, wondering if Cordelia still had that icky crush. The memory still made her skin crawl.  
  
“Angel’s seer, though, isn’t she?”  
  
Willow had to admit he had a point there, which made Cordelia’s absence puzzling. “We can ask Angel later,” she said.  
  
“Yeah. It can wait. Bint’s a bloody annoyance anyway.” He was looking at the staircase and then he looked back at her. “What do ya say we go upstairs and get some… rest?”  
  
“Rest?” He was smirking at her, so she knew what he meant. Was I possible for any two people to be more on the same wavelength? Because it felt as if she and Spike hadn’t made love in a year, and considering her weird and unnerving night – not to mention her lingering concerns about the spell – nothing seemed like a better idea than having naughty fun-times with her guy. “Sure thing. I could use some…sleep. Lots and lots of… sleep.”  
  
The smirk on Spike’s face got even sexier and Willow wanted to rip his clothes off right here in the lobby. It was a crime for anybody to be that sexy… and she so wanted to be the one to punish him for it.  
  
Within what seemed like seconds, she and Spike were back upstairs in their temporary quarters and there was no way she was spending tonight in her sexless sleepshirt. Spike had her clothes off before she could even blink and now, in between kisses, she was working the buttons on his jeans. “Have you considered zippers?” she panted, frustrated by how long this was taking.  
  
He chuckled. “Anticipation’s the best part.”  
  
She glowered at him. “ _Par_ ticipation would be better.”  
  
Obviously her argument swayed him because he helped her get those stupid buttons undone and she shoved his pants down his legs. He did the rest.  
  
Now he was naked too and he was… gorgeous. Just gorgeous. The most perfect, beautiful creature she’d ever seen – male or female. Seeing him naked never got old and she had a feeling it never would and… No, he was never going to get old, was he?  
  
Why did she have to think about this _now_? But she had and now it was in her head – the realization that every year would make her older while he stayed the same. Sooner or later, and no matter which it would be sooner than she could handle, he’d lose interest in her and want someone younger and more vibrant… more beautiful.  
  
It didn’t take him a second to realize her mood had darkened and he pulled her into his arms. She could feel his erection pressed against her and it only heightened her fear and premature sense of loss. “What’s wrong, love?”  
  
“You’re always going to look like this,” she choked out. “You’re always going to be perfect.”  
  
She could feel him shake his head before he pulled back and led her to the bed where he guided her to sit before sitting beside her. “Been waiting for this to come up. ‘Course your timing could have been better.”  
  
“Sorry.”  
  
“’S’okay. We’ve had worse buzzkills. I’ve dealt with your boy Xander walkin’ in on us, after all.” He was trying to lighten the mood, and the memory did bring a bit of a rueful smile, but it didn’t change the truth, did it?  
  
“I’m going to get old, Spike. I think that might be a way bigger buzzkill than Xander.”  
  
He sighed heavily and shook his head. “What am I gonna do with you?” A minute ago, Willow would have had some very racy answers to that question. Not now. He took her hand and locked eyes with her. “Not gonna lie. I’m right fond of that body of yours and that pretty face, but that’s not gonna change just because you do. I’m in love with you, and that’s for keeps. When your arse is flat as a pancake and your face is as wrinkled as the poof’s forehead in full brood? I’ll love ya just as much and I’ll make love to ya just as often. You’re mine and that’s more sure than any vows anyone’s ever made in any church.”  
  
Willow’s eyes were swimming with tears. She wanted to believe, but… “You’re not just saying that?”  
  
He moved the hand he was holding and put it over his heart. “I know you can’t feel it, but there’s a heartbeat there – yours. Only one I’ve had since the day I was turned and I never want to be without it. I’m gonna be with you to the end, love. You’re stuck with me.”  
  
Even through her tears, she could see the truth in his eyes. Had there ever been a woman as lucky as she was? She was pretty sure the answer to that was ‘no.’ Taking her hand out of his, she took his face between both palms and kissed him. “I love you, Spike.”  
  
“Love ya, too.” They stayed like this for a moment, silent, and then he asked, “Any chance we could get back to what we were doing?”  
  
No one had ever had a better idea. Willow kissed him again with every bit of the love and passion and gratitude she felt and they were prone in no time, hands roaming over bodies, relearning each other, Willow finding odd imperfections beneath her palms – like a dimple in one hip that might have been a scar long ago. She thought maybe that was her favorite part of him now and she moved down his body to kiss it. Did he just giggle? Oh god, she made Spike giggle. She looked up at him, feeling like her heart would burst with the joy of this new side of him she’d just found. It wasn’t possible to love him more than she already did, but somehow her love grew anyway.  
  
She wanted to give – just give – so instead of moving back up his body, she took him in her mouth, savoring the taste of him as she slid her mouth down slowly, hearing him hiss with pleasure. She looked up at him again, her eyes full of mischief and promises.   
  
This was going to be a long night – in all the best ways.  
  
  
To be continued…


	13. Chapter 13

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Thirteen)  
  
  
  
Willow stretched, smiling even as the occasional twinge reminded her that she really needed to be doing more yoga to improve her flexibility. Sex with Spike was kind of an athletic event –not that she minded. Oh no, she thought, remembering their recent antics, she didn’t mind at all.   
  
The sound of the shower told her where Spike was right now. Should she join him? Despite the hints of soreness in her muscles, she decided to throw caution, and any reservations she might have about getting naughty in that tiny shower, to the wind.  
  
She was already naked, so she just climbed out of bed and headed into the bathroom. Spike was behind a thin, plastic shower curtain and she could see the outline of his body through it.   
  
Yum.  
  
“Still plenty of hot water, love,” he offered from underneath the spray.   
  
Sounded like an invitation to her, so she quickly hopped into the shower. He was right; the water was nice and hot – but nowhere near as hot as the guy she was sharing it with. When he pulled her against him and kissed her, she wondered if the steam was from the shower at all. Her hand drifted down of its own accord, finding its way to Spike’s cock. He hissed as she began to stroke him, his mouth leaving hers. “You’re gonna kill me.”  
  
“Kinda good that you’re already dead then, huh?”  
  
“Cheeky.”  
  
She turned and stuck her butt out and he swatted it. Ooh. That was sort of… you know, they might just need to try spanking, but for now… she returned her attention to his cock, taking it in hand again, stroking it to full hardness. Wonder what he was going to do with it now?  
  
It wasn’t long at all before she found out. A second later he had her face against the shower wall, spreading her legs, positioning her and… “Oh,” she cried as he slid inside her in one quick, smooth motion. He’d surprised her, not that it was a bad thing – quite the opposite. Still, she hadn’t expected it to be this hard and fast and she couldn’t keep from crying out with each thrust. “Spike… oh god…Spike.”  
  
Well, what it lacked in eloquence, it made up for in sincerity – and a whole lot of ecstasy.  
  
All the while, he was growing in her ear, “Yeah, baby. Tell me how much you want it,” which she kinda thought she was already doing.  
  
He kept driving into her and just as she screamed his name one last time, he cried out hers as well and she felt his release inside her as she came.  
  
If he hadn’t been holding her up, she’d have slid down the shower wall to the floor. Wow. That was… Oh no. As he slid out of her, she turned around. “We were kind of too loud, huh?”   
  
Spike chuckled. “I liked it. That’s all that matters.”  
  
“What if we woke up the baby?”  
  
Obviously, Spike hadn’t thought of that. “We’ll buy him a teddy or something to make up for it,” he offered as he turned off the now-cooling water.  
  
Willow reddened as another thought occurred to her. “What if _Angel_ heard us?” The look on Spike’s face when she said it… “You wanted him to hear us, didn’t you?” She turned her best accusatory expression on him, daring him to lie.  
  
“Poor bastard needs _some_ entertainment,” he said with a shrug, but he wouldn’t meet her eyes.   
  
There was something else going on here and she wished she understood what it was. The history between Spike and Angel was so complicated and Willow realized that it was something that needed to be dealt with, even if it meant risking the happiness she had found with the man – vampire – she loved. “Do you want him to be jealous of me? To wish he was still with you?” Her voice trembled as she asked a question she was afraid to hear answered. “Do you wish you were still with him?”  
  
Scarcely had she finished her question before Spike pulled her into a passionate, searing kiss. “Don’t you ever doubt this,” he chided her. “I wouldn’t trade you for anyone, you hear me? Not anyone. Not Angelus or Angel – whichever one he is this week - that’s for sure.” Now his eyes were locked on hers. “I love you. More than anyone in life or unlife. Believe that.”  
  
Her own eyes were full of tears. “I just… “  
  
Pulling her close, he said, “It’s complicated, I know, and I’m asking a lot – for you to wade into this mess, being the lover of a vampire. I know that expecting you to trust me… it’s bloody ridiculous. But…”  
  
“I do trust you, Spike. Please don’t think I don’t.”  
  
“I know.” He kissed her forehead. “And that’s almost as ridiculous as the fact that… you can.” He chuckled again. “Fine demon I’ve turned out to be.”  
  
“I think you’re a very fine demon.”  
  
This time the chuckle rumbled through his whole body. “Yeah. But you’re a bit of a goody two shoes, so…”  
  
Really? “Umm… goody two shoes?” How quickly he forgot.  
  
“You made mistakes, pet, but you felt guilty and wrong deep down all the while. Your goddess forgave you, didn’t she? Proves you’re a good girl in spite of it all.”  
  
His reasoning was seductive, though she still had a hard time seeing herself as good – especially after what she’d done to Tara. Still… maybe there was goodness in her, or at least the ability to get there. Goddess knew she was trying. “Okay,” she said, trying to agree with him.  
  
“You don’t believe me,” he chided.  
  
“I want to. It’s just…”  
  
“You’re too human to know the difference between doing bad and being bad.”  
  
Human. The word rang in her head and again this brought up the unbridgeable gap. Yes, he’d reassured her earlier and she believed him… but what about _her_? How was she going to feel when she was fifty… sixty… and her lover was frozen in youth? What would it be like when waitresses and salesclerks started assuming he was her son… her _grand_ son? How would she feel when fragile bones restricted their lovemaking to a tepid mockery of the athletic romps they currently enjoyed?  
  
She began to shiver. “We should probably get out of the shower, huh?”  
  
He got out first and guided her out, solicitous as always and eager to make sure she didn’t slip on the damp floor. His thoughtfulness and concern were two of her favorite things about him and that just made it all the harder… imagining what it would be like when he was terrified she’d break a hip. Would she grow to hate his solicitude?  
  
“You think too much,” he chided, sensing her pensive state, and a memory from long ago made her giggle. “What’s so funny?”  
  
“Xander said the same thing.” That brought a smack from a towel across her butt and she yelped. “What was that for?”  
  
“Comparing me to Demon Girl’s house pet.”  
  
She giggled again but then forced her features into a serious expression. “I promise that’s the only thing you have in common,” she offered in a placating tone.   
  
“Damn right it is.”  
  
She dried herself off and then headed out into the bedroom in search of clothes. She’d just put on a bra and panties when it occurred to her that…“I should dry my hair,” she sighed just as she was about to put on her jeans and t-shirt.   
  
“You do that. I’ll head down and make myself some breakfast. Want me to bring something back up for you?”  
  
“Nah. I’ll meet you down there.”  
  
He seemed almost disappointed, but Willow figured they should refrain from noisy activity for a while. Besides, she was still melancholy from those thoughts she’d had and she needed to snap out of them. Maybe getting out for a bit would help. She’d think about it and then talk to Spike in a few minutes. “Go drink your breakfast,” she instructed, and dressing in a trice, he followed her orders. With a quick kiss and a “See you downstairs, love. Don’t be long,” he was out the door.  
  
So here she was – alone with those thinky thoughts. Hopefully, the noise from the blow dryer would clear her head.  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	14. Chapter 14

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Fourteen)  
  
  
  
The blow dryer and a few minutes alone had helped Willow at least shove her troubling thoughts to the back of her mind for now, so here she was – headed for the kitchen and the breakfast her stomach was currently telling her she desperately needed. Spike seemed to make her a whole lot hungrier than she’d usually been in the past.  
  
Just as she was about to enter the kitchen, the sound of voices stopped her. Spike was in there… and so was Angel.  
  
“You haven’t changed, Spike.”  
  
“Guess that means you heard the show after all. Liar.”  
  
Okay, she’d apparently arrived in the middle of a conversation – and Angel had obviously tried to deny hearing what she and Spike had just done. She held her breath and kept listening.  
  
“What game are you playing?” She could almost hear Angel grinding his teeth and she unconsciously got into battle stance, ready to spring into action if there was a threat to her guy.  
  
“Just gave my girl a good seein’-to, that’s all.”  
  
“And it’s an accident that I heard every moan and scream?”  
  
“Not my fault you’ve got those nasty, voyeuristic tendencies. What’s the matter, Angelus? Mad that this time I got the girl first? And the best one of the lot at that? ”  
  
What followed was the sound of someone being pushed against… the wall? Cabinets? Okay, now was the time to stop eavesdropping and start… dropping in. She burst into the room and saw two vampires in game face – and Angel had his hand around Spike’s throat as he was against the wall. “Hey! Stop that!” What her words lacked in threat value – she really needed to work on that – she more than compensated for with the crackle of magical energy she could feel emanating from her. It sure had an effect on Angel, who did just as she asked in a trice.   
  
Spike was smirking as if he’d won, but Willow could feel the tension and she knew that what she’d overheard wasn’t the entirety of the reason for this fight, but what she’d been privy to had left her with numberless questions and resurrected her insecurities full force.  
  
What had Spike meant by ‘this time I got the girl first’?  
  
Now wasn’t the time to ask, though; she didn’t want to deal with this in front of Angel. So instead she got back to glaring and admonished them both. “I thought we were all going to get along!”  
  
“He started it,” Spike mumbled, sounding remarkably like a toddler. Willow’s first impulse, insecurity and curiosity aside, was to stand by her man all the way, but she really did _not_ want to turn this into a two against one situation. She needed to be Switzerland.  
  
“I’m finishing it,” she said with authority, realizing she sounded exactly like Joyce. It gave her a pang. She missed Joyce so much. Buffy’s mother had been more of a mother to Willow than her own had ever been. More sadness to push to the back of her mind for now.   
  
Just then, Gunn came in. His tone and manner were guarded and cautious even as he tried to seem casual. “Hey, Spike. Just the guy I was looking for. You were gonna show me some fighting tactics today, remember?”   
  
This was the first Willow had heard of anything like that and she shot a questioning glance at Spike, who shrugged and offered sheepishly, “Might have said something like that while you were sleeping off all the magics.”   
  
She stifled a sigh, realizing that it might just be good for him to work off some tension with Gunn. At least the chip would keep him from hurting the man. “You guys go do that, then. I was going to go run some errands today anyway.” She could get something to eat while she was out as well. Boy was she ever hungry.  
  
Spike’s answer was to pull her into a passionate kiss, one so steamy that she could hear Gunn clearing his throat, obviously a bit uncomfortable witnessing the display. He could join the club because she was a little uncomfortable _being_ displayed. Her lover was a demon, though, and she knew that there were times when she had to allow him to act like one. Demonstrations of ownership, for instance. Her feminist mother would have a fit… but since it was unlikely she’d ever meet Spike, Willow decided there wasn’t much reason to worry.  
  
The kiss ended and Spike gave her a hug. “Be careful,” he admonished, then he shot an angry glare at Angel before heading out of the room with Gunn, who didn’t look at her at all as he passed.   
  
Willow had every intention of following Spike’s lead and going straight upstairs to get her purse and then go out to grab some lunch, check out Pan Pipes again, and see a few other places around town, but… She had questions and something in her pushed her to ask Angel for his answers before she posed those same queries to Spike. Because she’d thought the tension between the two vampires was all about Angel and Spike’s one-time relationship, but the argument hadn’t seemed to be about that, so…  
  
“What’s going on between you and Spike?”  
  
Angel seemed taken aback by her directness, but she’d come a long way since the days when she’d been afraid Angel would bite her if she said something he didn’t like. One thing from the past she _had_ hung onto, though, was her Resolve Face. It might not be magic in the strictest sense, but it was not without power. She turned it full force on Angel and she waited, watching as his expression went through changes… the last of which was the slight flash of gold in his eyes before his mien became inscrutable.  
  
Was she intimidated? Yes. Was she going to admit it? No. “I asked you about what’s going on between you and Spike.”  
  
“Shouldn’t you ask him?”  
  
Well, yes, and she was going to, but… “I’m asking _you_.”  
  
His eyes were hooded and shadowed and Willow still couldn’t read them. Gone was the softness she saw when he cradled his son. Instead she was faced with a demon of far greater complexity and mystery than ever Angelus had possessed. You know, between her troubles with magic and the brand new world she found herself in thanks to her lover, maybe it was time for her to learn to look before she leapt.   
  
Seconds passed and, weirdly, she could almost _hear_ the silence in the room, but then – finally – Angel spoke. “It’s not that complicated. I know you heard most of what we said. Drusilla was mine first…”  
  
“And so was Buffy,” Willow mumbled without thinking. Oh goddess no. The look on Angel’s face told her he’d heard her… and that, no, Spike hadn’t shared the news. Was there some way she could spin her remark so that it didn’t mean what it sounded like… what it actually _did_ mean?  
  
“Spike and… Buffy?” Angel asked, his voice alarmingly calm and even.  
  
Okay. Damage control. Damage control. Oh god. She was babbling in her head. Hadn’t she outgrown this? “Um… Spike sort of had a crush in her… just a little one. It was a while ago. Before Buffy even died. It was no big deal.” Was that convincing to Angel? Because Willow was having flashbacks to the way she used to act while caffeinated.  
  
“They slept together,” he contradicted, in that same eerily calm voice.  
  
“Uh… well,” she was wilting under the steadiness of Angel’s gaze, “I guess… sort of.” How had this turned around so fast? She was supposed to be grilling _him_.   
  
His gaze had now transformed into a shovel, trying to dig up the story buried behind what she hoped were guileless and unrevealing green eyes.   
  
He shrugged and, with a smirk that chilled her, said, “She’s a Slayer. No normal man can give her what she needs.” His tone was dismissive… of Buffy _and_ Spike.  
  
About to say something else, though she wasn’t sure what, Willow’s tongue was halted in its tracks by a voice from the lobby – one she had been wondering about. “Hey? Where is everybody? We’re back!”  
  
It was Cordelia.   
  
What did she mean by ‘we’?  
  
  
To be continued…


	15. Chapter 15

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Fifteen)  
  
  
  
Well, Angel gestured for her to leave the room first, so Willow led the way out of the kitchen and into the lobby, where Cordelia stood, looking like an ad for some sort of all-American product, sporting short hair and a smile with even whiter teeth than Willow remembered. She wasn’t alone. Next to her stood an unfamiliar, wholesomely handsome-looking man. He reminded her oddly of Riley, except around the eyes.  
  
Of course, Cordelia’s cheery expression changed a bit when she saw who was the first to greet her. “Willow. What are you doing here?”  
  
Hadn’t Angel told her? Better to go with the short version since the last long conversation Willow had had with Cordelia had ended up with her being called a ‘lesbo.’ Not her favorite memory ever. “Rescuing Connor.” What it lacked in detail it made up for in accuracy and it got the point across, right?  
  
Apparently not. Cordelia suddenly looked panicked. “Connor? Something happened to Connor?”  
  
“He’s fine, Cordelia.” Angel to the rescue – the very stern rescue.   
  
“What happened?” She was staring daggers at Willow – which made no sense, but whatever.  
  
Angel took over. “Thanks to Wesley, Connor was kidnapped and taken to a hell dimension, but Willow got him back.”  
  
“Oh.” Cordelia sagged against the silent beefcake by her side before turning back to Willow and saying, “Well, thanks.”   
  
“Welcome back, princess!” Lorne caroled from the staircase, seeming ecstatic to see Cordelia. He was cradling Connor. “Look who's here to welcome you home.”   
  
He rushed into the room, smile as wide as the one Cordelia had been wearing, bearing the baby like a gift – one he was about to bestow on Cordelia… until Angel intercepted it. “Thank you,” he said to Lorne. His tone wasn’t sarcastic, but he was about as sincere as the inscription Willow had left in Harmony’s yearbook. Once again, she felt lost without a map because there was stuff going on here that she did not understand at all. Why couldn’t life be like school? Well, not all of school – the social stuff was not any more her forte than what was going on here in the lobby - but the classroom part because then she would be totally ahead of the curve.  
  
What happened next left her more flummoxed than ever. Angel handed his son to her.  
  
Huh? Oh god. She was holding Connor. How long had it been since she’d held a baby? Uh… okay. It had been her cousin Fran’s baby and her Mom had stopped speaking to Fran… had it really been that long? Yes, it had. Goddess this was weird. Was she even doing this right? Holding his head? Check. Plus, Angel wasn’t getting ready to rip her throat out, which, considering how he felt about his son…  
  
You know, this wasn’t so bad. It didn’t make her want kids of her own or anything, but she could fill the ‘Courtesy Aunt’ role pretty nicely, she figured. Connor was even smiling at her and making happy little sounds. Good for you, Tante Willow.   
  
Unfortunately, while Angel seemed just fine, Cordelia was glaring daggers at her… and so was Lorne. While the first made sense, what the heck had she ever done to Lorne? She barely knew him. Did he hate witches or something? Because, seriously? He was green. With horns. Shouldn’t tolerance of his fellow otherworldly types sort of come with that package?  
  
Luckily, her stomach decided to do her a huge favour by growling loudly. “Sorry,” she offered, ducking her head in surprisingly insincere embarrassment, “guess I’m kinda hungry.” She handed Connor back to Angel. “I’m gonna go get my purse and then grab some lunch and run some errands. Nice seeing you again, Cordelia.” With that, she hurried upstairs. Phew! What the heck was going on?  
  
  
  
She’d found the fire stairs and left the building out the back, thus managing to avoid any more contact with Cordelia – or Lorne. Who the heck was the tall, silent type who’d been with Cordelia, by the way? Guess she’d find out later. Maybe Spike would find out for her.  
  
Maybe they needed to leave.  
  
When she got back to the hotel, she was definitely going to have a talk with Spike. Things had seemed to be going well right after the spell, but now… now the tension was just a little too much for her and she knew that after this morning’s confrontation he’d agree. They could figure out what the heck that melding feeling during the spell meant just as well back in Sunnydale. They just needed to go home.  
  
As hungry as she was, she wound up driving around aimlessly for awhile. Finally, deciding to try something new, she drove through an In ‘n Out burger and got a Double Double, an order of fries, and a large Coke, then parked to eat in the car rather than going inside and braving the thronged dining area in the probably vain hope that she could find a free seat.   
  
The burger was messy, and required a bit of legerdemain to eat without losing its contents all over the front seat, but it was definitely delicious – very delicious. Sure explained, and justified, the crowd. They needed one of these In ‘n Out places in Sunnydale.   
  
Well, after this meal, she wouldn’t be hungry until dinnertime… or even later. Time to head for Pan Pipes. Turning the key in the ignition, she prepared to pull out of the parking lot - but the car did not cooperate. It didn’t even start. She turned the key again. Nothing… just… nothing.  
  
Oh great. What was she going to do?  
  
For a moment, she considered… but no. That wasn’t what the goddess intended when she’d given permission for Willow to use magic again. Was she tempted anyway? She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t, but she took a deep, calming breath and let go. This wasn’t what magic was for. Thousands of people dealt with mechanical failure every day with no magic to draw on whatsoever and they managed just fine. Now she just had to figure out how to be one of them.  
  
She could open the hood like she always saw guys do, but, let’s face it, she knew absolutely nothing about car engines. Her parents probably had an Auto Club membership, but since they hadn’t actually given her permission to use their car… Oh goddess! What if they came home and…?   
  
No, no. That wasn’t going to happen. They were in Israel. She’d gotten an email from them yesterday telling her they’d be there for at least another month. They were considering buying a place in Tel Aviv. A second home, they called it, but Willow wasn’t fooled by the euphemism. If they bought that apartment, she’d probably never see her parents again.  
  
Great. Like she really needed to get weepy and mopey right now.  
  
Think, Willow, what should you do? Just then, she saw a guy in the parking lot holding a cell phone. Putting her feminist cred away and hoping Spike never found out she was about to do something that could be considered flirting, she got out of the car and smiled… and then saw another man approach the one she’d been about to flirt with and kiss him lightly – right on the lips. Okay, at least she hadn’t embarrassed herself by flirting with this guy. But was it too much to ask for some repair to be done on her gaydar?  
  
She walked up to the pair, still smiling, and asked, “My car just broke down and I don’t have a cell phone. Could I use yours to call my friend and see if he can send a mechanic or a tow truck or something?”  
  
“Sure thing, sweetie.” Gosh did he sound nice, and he _was_ nice since he immediately handed her the phone.   
  
“Thank you so much!” Willow quickly dialed Angel’s number, hoping that she didn’t get… “Angel Investigations, we help the hopeless.” Oh goody. It was Cordelia. “Hey. It’s Willow. Could I talk to Angel?”  
  
“Sure.” Same word the nice man with the phone had used but boy was the tone different. Still, she was put on hold, not hung up on, and a moment later, Angel was on the line.  
  
“Willow?”  
  
“Hi. I… umm… my car broke down and I’m not sure what to do.”  
  
For a moment, she thought he was going to ask about magic, but maybe he remembered, or maybe he just figured she was in public and really couldn’t talk about that, so instead he just asked, “Where are you?”  
  
Taking a quick look at the street signs, she answered, “I’m at the In ‘n Out Burger on the corner of Sunset and Orange.”  
  
“Sit tight. Someone will be there in a few minutes." He paused and then added, oddly, “I promise.” Then the line went dead. Nice manners with the non-goodbye there, but she couldn’t really complain since he _had_ promised to send someone.  
  
She noticed the little red 'End' button and pushed it, then handed the phone back to the man who’d loaned it to her. “Thanks so much. You totally saved my life.”  
  
“No problem, toots,” the other man said. “Are you going to be okay?”  
  
“Oh yeah. My friend’s sending someone to pick me up. I’ll be fine. Thanks again.”  
  
“Bye then.” They gave her a little wave and then headed towards a very new and very shiny Mercedes convertible. She headed back to her parents’ Honda. Time to wait for the cavalry.  
  
As she got back into the car, she suddenly realized that, for at least as long as it took to fix whatever was wrong with it, she and Spike were going to be stuck in L.A.  
  
Oh no.  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	16. Chapter 16

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Sixteen)  
  
  
  
The truck was a strong and serviceable vehicle, but it seemed sort of incongruous for Gunn, Willow thought. He seemed like more the ‘fast car’ kind of guy, although considering the fact that she barely knew him, it wasn’t like she had much on which to base her opinion. Anyway, what did she know about cars even if she had known Gunn well? Since Oz, had she even known anyone besides Giles who had a car of their own? Spike didn’t even have the DeSoto anymore.   
  
Her thoughts were spinning around in pointless circles and she knew why – she didn’t want to think about being stuck here in Los Angeles. Or about how long it was going to take or how much it was going to cost at that alarmingly busy repair shop to get her parents’ car fixed.  
  
“Thanks,” she said to the man silently driving the truck, figuring maybe she should try and start a conversation. “I really appreciate you coming to get me like this.”  
  
“No problem.” He was assessing her, she could tell. What was it with everyone here? It wasn’t like she and Spike were moving in, and hey! She’d just saved Connor. Couldn’t anyone just try and like her?  
  
Maybe some friendly chitchat would help. “How was the sparring session with Spike?”  
  
“Pretty good. Your boyfriend’s got some nice moves. Knows how to fight dirty, that’s for sure. Think he taught me some good tricks.”  
  
Willow chuckled. “Yeah, that’s Spike. Even Buffy says he’s the toughest she’s ever fought.”  
  
Gunn turned his head briefly to look at her before fixing his eyes back on the road. “That Buffy’s something, too, isn’t she? Died twice and she’s still here.” He paused. “You brought her back, didn’t you? That’s what Angel said.”  
  
A shudder passed through her for a moment. That, after all, had been an act not without consequences. As happy as she was that Buffy was alive, she knew Buffy hadn’t always shared that joy – nor had the goddess. That act had opened a door within her which had led to some truly arrogant and terrible misdeeds as well. She had so far to go to begin to atone. “I did,” she agreed.  
  
“That’s some amazing mojo you’ve got. Thanks, by the way. Connor being back… you did a good thing.”  
  
“You don’t have to thank me. I… It’s what I’m supposed to do.”  
  
He shot her the strangest look. “Anyone ever tell you that you’re a lot like Angel?”  
  
Huh? “No,” she said, and that was as honest as the day was long.  
  
Gunn gave a short laugh, but he didn’t argue the point. “Here we are,” he said, as he pulled into a space and parked behind the hotel.   
  
They each got out and… Oh gosh. She could have asked him… but hey, there was still time. “Who’s that guy who was with Cordelia?”  
  
“Groo.”  
  
“Groo?” Something clicked in her head when she connected the name with his not-quite-right eyes. “He’s not human, is he?”  
  
“Half-human. He’s from Pylea.”   
  
Oh, that was where Lorne was from, wasn’t it? “Cool,” she said with a shrug. Not like she had a problem with human/demon relationships.   
  
Gunn was still standing by the truck so Willow stayed put as well. Then he asked her a question that probably didn’t surprise her, except it sort of did. “So how’d you end up with a vampire?”  
  
Boy was that ever the sixty-four thousand dollar question. She decided to go with the short short version. “My first boyfriend was a werewolf, my girlfriend was a witch… I’m a witch, too, so…” Then she added, “Plus, Spike is the most wonderful person I’ve ever known. Without him… I don’t know where I’d be.” Wasn’t that an understatement.  
  
“He doesn’t have a soul, does he?”  
  
She shook her head. “No.”  
  
“So if that chip shorts out…”  
  
Willow saw where this was going. “If the chip shorts out, he won’t be any different than he is now. If Spike really wanted to hurt humans, he’d have found a way, even with the chip. He is who he is by choice.” The glare she added promised agonizing death if Gunn even _thought_ about staking her guy.  
  
Guess the glare worked because Gunn locked eyes with her. “Fair enough.” She could see the wheels turning behind his eyes and she wondered…  
  
“You knew about vampires, didn’t you? Before Angel, I mean.”  
  
“Been fightin’ them since I was a kid.”  
  
“Me, too.”  
  
“Really?”  
  
“Yeah. I learned they existed the day Buffy came to town. My best friend…” Willow stopped and took a deep breath. “My best friend Jesse was turned. Darla did it. Then my friend Xander… he had to stake him.”  
  
There was a flash of darkness behind Gunn’s eyes. “My sister,” he said, in a low, tight voice. “I staked her.”  
  
“Oh my god. I’m so sorry.” Reaching out, she put her hand on Gunn’s arm. “The stuff everyone says, like ‘it wasn’t really her’, that never makes it better.”  
  
“No.”  
  
Without questioning whether the offer would even be welcome, she said, “If you ever need to talk… I mean, I kinda know what it’s like and…” He was silent for a moment and she wondered: Had she offended him? She was practically a stranger.  
  
Finally, he answered. The word was short and tight, but he wasn’t offended. “Thanks.” He put his hand over the one still resting on his arm.   
  
A moment later, the contact ended and, by unspoken agreement, they headed into the Hyperion, Willow hoping against hope that Lorne and Cordelia were nowhere to be found.  
  
On a day when her car had gone into cardiac arrest, should she really have expected luck? Because right there in the lobby was one of the people she least wanted to see – and that someone was fighting with Angel in a voice high with annoyance, her manicured hands making angry gestures. “I just want to take him for a walk. He needs fresh air, okay?”  
  
“And I said you’re not taking my son out there where he could get kidnapped or killed!”  
  
“But Groo…”  
  
“Hey, guys,” Willow caroled, hoping she could at least relieve the tension. It was already making her twitch. She hated arguments.   
  
Spike had been standing on, well, the sidelines, and he was with her in the blink of an eye, pulling her into his arms. “You all right, love?” Before she could answer, he addressed Gunn. “Thanks for going and getting’ her.”  
  
“No problem.”  
  
“I’m fine,” she interjected. “We followed the tow truck to the mechanic’s. I’m supposed to call them tomorrow after they’ve had a chance to check out the car and see what’s wrong with it.” She sighed. “I wish it had waited to break down until we were home.”  
  
“Can’t you guys just rent another car?” And Cordelia was heard from again. Angel glared at her.  
  
“It’s my parents’ car. We can’t just leave it here in L.A.” Spike kissed her cheek and she smiled at him. It didn’t reach her eyes though. After all, a part of her wanted to leave just as much as Cordelia wanted her gone.  
  
“You’re welcome to stay as long as you need,” Angel said firmly, glaring again at his… seer. Gosh was it weird to think of Cordelia having visions of anything that didn’t involve Gucci or Prada.   
  
“Thanks,” Spike replied, getting into a bit of a staring contest with Angel. No, this morning’s fight had not been forgotten. Oh goody. Tension. Willow’s very favorite thing in the whole world. She almost trembled as she thought about why she’d tried that Tabula Rasa spell. Had she mentioned how much she hated tension and fights?  
  
Luckily – and could she just say how grateful she was that luck finally seemed to have returned to the fold? – Fred came out of the office. “Guys,” she was clearly speaking to Angel, Gunn, and Cordelia, “we still have some clients who want to talk to you.”  
  
And again, she needed to learn not to count her lucky eggs before they hatched. Because Angel pushed a baby carriage to her and said, “Would you mind taking my son for a walk while I talk to these clients?”  
  
She nodded in agreement. But if looks could maim? The one from Cordelia would have insured she wouldn’t have the legs to leave the hotel. “But…”  
  
“She’s a witch, Cordelia. Connor’s completely safe with her.” Angel’s tone was almost scary and there wasn’t any further argument… not even from Willow.  
  
Or Spike.  
  
“See you in a little bit,” Willow said to her boyfriend.  
  
“That you will, love.”  
  
She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the look he gave Cordelia. Because it confirmed what she’d told Gunn… if he wanted to hurt a particular human, he’d figure out how to do it. Feeling immeasurably safer, she pushed the carriage out of the hotel and into the afternoon sunlight.  
  
When had she become a nanny?  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	17. Chapter 17

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Seventeen)  
  
  
  
“A Skench? Really?” Willow had to admit she’d never heard of that species.   
  
Spike shuddered. “Ugly buggers. Nasty phlegm. Stuff’s even worse than Fyarl mucus.”  
  
Finally alone with her guy and what were they doing? Discussing the icky demon Gunn and Fred were out (hopefully) slaying. Which was actually not what they most needed to discuss.  
  
It seemed like they were always being interrupted by something, so she just blurted it out: “Angel knows.”  
  
Spike seemed totally confused. “What? What are you talking about?”  
  
“He knows. About you and Buffy.”  
  
“How…?” He didn’t seem too happy and Willow became very nervous.  
  
“I kind of, sort of thought you had probably said something already and so I sort of said something and he kind of… figured it out.” Oh god. She wasn’t in the habit of babbling anymore. It felt strange – and not in a good way.  
  
But then Spike pulled her into a close embrace. “’S’okay, love. Probably best if you don’t tell Buffy, though. Don’t think she’d be too pleased about Angelus knowing her secrets.”  
  
It didn’t escape Willow’s notice that Spike was using the name of Angel’s soulless counterpart again. Not surprising, she supposed, considering that confrontation in the kitchen. “I’m guessing you guys didn’t talk while I was gone.”  
  
She could feel the shake of Spike’s head. “Not bloody likely,” but he sounded sad as he said it, not his usual airy sarcasm.   
  
“I keep trying to tell him how wonderful you are.”  
  
He kissed the top of her head. “Thanks for that.” He still sounded dispirited though and Willow wondered about that. Or maybe she shouldn’t. After all, she still wanted her parents to love her.   
  
“Sorry about the car,” she offered. “I’d been thinking we’d go home tonight, but now…”  
  
“Not your fault, pet.” He sighed softly. “Can’t say I wasn’t hoping we’d be leaving.” Despite the words, though, Spike’s tone was far less certain than her own had been and she was sensing that same strange ambivalence.   
  
Again, she wondered about the spell, but she said nothing about it. “Well, on the plus side, maybe I’ll get to eat at In ‘n Out again.” That _was_ a plus, too.  
  
Spike chuckled. “A hamburger makes this all better?”   
  
“Well, no, but… I’m trying to look on the bright side.”  
  
“That’s what I love about you.”  
  
Just when it looked like they were about to close the door to their room and have a lovely, and very welcome, romantic moment, the sound of arguing drifted up from downstairs.  
  
“What do you mean Wesley’s in the hospital?”  
  
Oh great. You know, the least Angel could do was keep his employees updated.  
  
“Thought the cheerleader was supposed to have turned into a seer or something. You’d think she’d already have the lowdown about what was going on without needing to be told. That Miss Cleo on the telly would have known.”   
  
Willow giggled, but she pointed out, “Being a seer isn’t really like that. She gets the visions she gets. It’s not like she can just look in a crystal ball and see what everyone’s doing whenever she likes.”  
  
“Not much use then, is she?”  
  
It was obvious that the argument downstairs had moved out of the lobby because, while voices could be heard, Willow could no longer make out what was being said. “We better get downstairs and see what’s going on before someone gets killed.”   
  
Spike rolled his eyes, then said, “It’d be just like Angel to make me clean up cheerleader blood at that.”  
  
Her guy. There was no one like him. But there was a look in his eyes… Oh gosh, there was a memory attached to that offhand quip. It seemed to be an oddly nostalgic one, if her interpretations of his expressions were accurate, and she realized she’d been noticing that more and more since they got here.  
  
He missed having his sire, she already knew that, but now… now there was a specificity to his feelings and she realized that, for all his bluster and sarcasm, Spike missed _Angel_. Guess that explained the heightened tension and this morning’s nasty fight. No one knew better than she did that Spike’s way of dealing with vulnerability was to lash out. He’d done it to _her_ more than once.  
  
Once again marveling at her ability to entangled in deep thoughts at the worst possible moment, she headed down the stairs, Spike by her side, and made her way to the office – where Angel was standing glowering guard over a box of what looked like personal belongings. Wesley’s, she’d guess.   
  
“He’s not welcome here.”  
  
“I get that, okay? I just…”  
  
Much to Willow’s – and Angel’s – shock, Spike put both boots into the argument. “He sent your boss’s pup off to a Hell dimension, in case you forgot. Oh wait. You didn’t even know. Because you were too busy getting your groove on with the hunk of the month over there,” he gestured dismissively towards poor Groo, who looked lost and confused. “Why don’t you leave the important matters to the grown-ups, eh?”  
  
“Spike,” Angel growled, but there was a look in his eyes which belied the hostile tone of his voice. Was it… fondness?   
  
Cordelia, however, was completely and totally hostile and there was no mitigating emotion whatsoever. “Look, you neutered excuse for a vampire, Angel’s the one who sent me off on vacation! And for your information, I’m not defending Wesley or what he did. I love Connor. He’s… family, and I’m just as angry about what happened to him as anyone. I just want the chance to talk to Wesley, that’s all. I want to understand…” There was something close to tears in her eyes and Willow felt… well, kind of horrible, actually. It was clear that all of this was a rude and overwhelming shock to Cordelia and she was having a hard time. Wesley had been her friend and finding out what he’d done had to be a real blow.  
  
Her old nemesis had clearly matured; Willow could see that. Maybe it was time to hold out an olive branch. “I’m sorry,” she offered. “I guess in the heat of things, we all kind of forgot how confusing this has to be for you. I mean, you and Wesley work together all the time, fighting evil, you go away for a week or two, and – Blam! He turns out to be evil too.”  
  
A slackened jaw and widening eyes were Cordelia’s first response, followed by a surprising and heartfelt, “Thank you.” Of course she then glared at the two vampires and added, “At least someone here understands human feelings.”   
  
“You’re right. I’m sorry.” An apology from Angel. That was good because Willow knew there was definitely not one coming from Spike, who proved her right by merely snorting and rolling his eyes.  
  
“It is good that we are no longer arguing.” Groo’s voice and inflection were an even clearer indication than his eyes that he wasn’t quite all the way human – though possibly closer to it than Anya.   
  
Oh gosh, that reminded her… “I really need to call Buffy. Let her know that we won’t be back for awhile. Mind if I use the phone?”  
  
“Can it wait?” Angel asked. “I was hoping you’d take these things to Wesley.” He all but spat the man’s name.   
  
For a split second, she thought of asking what the hurry was, but then – duh. Why would he want to have Wesley’s stuff around for a moment longer? Yes, Connor was home now, and safe, but it had been a close run thing and the pain of those days without his son wasn’t just going to go away. Willow got that.   
  
There was, however, one very good reason why she could not do this. “My car’s in the shop, remember?”  
  
Angel was about to say something when Cordelia – proving that, no matter what, the universe would never stop being surprising – chimed in. “I’ll take you.” Okay… huh? Why didn’t she just offer to take the stuff herself?  
  
But if Willow thought there was a way out of this, she was probably wrong, since Angel immediately handed her the box and, with a look that was full of undercurrents she didn’t quite get, said, “Thank you.”  
  
Spike clearly saw the writing on the wall as well and, instead of starting a brand new row, said, “I’ll call the Slayer for you, let her know what’s up and that you’ll be calling her yourself later.”  
  
She was about to thank him, but instead the words that came out were, “I love you.”  
  
With a surprised, but very pleased, smile, Spike replied, “Love you too, pet. Be back soon, okay?”  
  
“I will.” As she followed Cordelia out of the hotel, she concentrated on the sound of Spike’s voice…  
  
And not on the look in Angel’s eyes.  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	18. Chapter 18

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Eighteen)  
  
  
  
There was nothing awkward about sitting in a car next to Cordelia Chase. Nothing at all.  
  
Okay, there was _everything_ awkward about this. The last time they’d had really talked had been before Willow had made with the illicit Xander-smoochies – not like the ‘lesbo’ chat had been a real conversation; it hadn’t lasted five minutes – and how long ago had _that_ been? What to say… what to say… what to… “I like your hair.” That’s the best you could come up with, Rosenberg? ‘I like your hair’? Really?  
  
However, maybe it was the right thing, because Cordelia smiled. “Thanks. It sure saves time, which, when you’re in the ‘fighting evil’ business, is actually a good thing.” She sighed. “You know, I can’t believe I just said that.”  
  
Again the question of what to say had come up. Because it would be really bad form to agree and admit that she was really shocked at Cordelia placing _anything_ ahead of perfectly-styled long hair. Guess the seer thing… which gave Willow an idea for what to say. “You look serious now. I mean, like a seer and all.”  
  
One more attaboy for Willow because Cordelia smiled again, though a bit more sadly this time. “Yeah, I am. Serious. And a seer.”  
  
“You do a lot of good.”  
  
“You too,” Cordelia responded and if Willow had been standing, she might have tumbled over. Compliments from Cordelia were not going to feel normal for a long time – maybe never.   
  
More awkward silence as they made their traffic-slowed way to the hospital. She needed to try harder to make conversation. “So… umm… you and Groo? You guys are a couple and all, right?”  
  
Okay, that was a smile on Cordelia’s face, right? “Yeah. He’s… he’s my boyfriend.” There was a flash of… something. If they were closer, Willow would have said something, but she didn’t know Cordelia well enough – not anymore. For all she knew, that flash was a vision. Or heartburn. Or nothing. Better to just keep her mouth shut on the subject. Especially since now Cordelia was turning the tables. “So, the romance with Spike. That’s new, huh? Last I heard, you were doing the Ellen DeGeneres thing.”  
  
Willow fought the urge to roll her eyes at the insensitive characterization. After all, it beat ‘lesbo.’ “I’m bisexual. But Spike and I have been together for a few months.” She debated whether to offer any carefully edited details of how she and Spike came to be together but decided to skip it. “We just… click, you know? I love him more than anyone I’ve ever known.”  
  
There was that odd ‘something’ again, but Cordelia’s answer was a bland, “I hear ya.” Had she even listened?  
  
Goody. Here they were at the hospital and Cordelia was too busy navigating the – to Willow’s admittedly small town view – complicated parking lot situation to betray any further disinterest in her love life.  
  
Eventually, parking was accomplished and the two women got out, Willow carrying the box, and began making their way to the very large and imposing building. Just before they hit the door, however, Cordelia turned to her and put her hand on her arm, so Willow stopped. “I haven’t said thank you, have I? For Connor. I should have because… I love him, you know.”  
  
Cordelia was right. “I know.” Which was true, because even if Willow hadn’t known before this instant, the choked sob beneath her one-time nemesis’s words told the truth louder than her voice could manage. You know, maybe it was time to reexamine her opinion of Cordelia Chase. Willow had grown up and changed since high school; wasn’t it only logical to assume that Cordelia had too?   
  
The box was getting heavy and Cordelia seemed to notice. “Let’s get this over with.” Tight lines appeared at the corner of her eyes and Willow once again felt for her. Her own memories of Wesley were of a useless bumbler who wore too much pomade, sported suits that didn’t fit correctly, and who had a crush on Cordelia that could have been seen from space; but she knew that in the years since then he’d become a valued member of Angel’s team and that no doubt his relationship with Cordelia had evolved into a close friendship. How much his betrayal had to hurt.  
  
“I’m really sorry,” she said, and her companion gave her a soft half-smile.  
  
“Thanks.” A second later, they were at the desk and the efficient, if brusque, nurse behind it punched a few keys on her computer and gave them Wesley’s room number.  
  
The elevator was sleek and modern and the dings for each floor were discreet. One more thing in this town that made her feel like a real bumpkin – and that made her hate her parents for not exposing her to any of the experiences that they so eagerly went off to enjoy all her life while leaving her behind to fend for herself.   
  
Now wasn’t exactly the best time to think about this stuff, because here they were on Wesley’s floor… and a moment later, in Wesley’s room. He looked small and almost fragile in his hospital gown with a bandage around his neck. But for all his seeming weakness, this man had done so much damage.   
  
He looked surprised to see them, but he didn’t speak. Instead, he pointed to his throat immediately by way of explanation. Cordelia wasn't going to hear what he had to say, after all. Oh, well, that was kind of good because Willow was pretty sure any alibi he attempted to offer would be pathetically bogus. No, she wasn’t bitter about his willingness to sacrifice her to Faith and the Mayor back in high school.  
  
Well, not _very_ bitter.  
  
This box was heavy, though. What was it with men and ponderous office statuary? Her dad had stuff like this in his unused office at home.  
  
She wasn’t the only one who’d walked in here with baggage, though only she could set most of hers on a table near the door – which she did with a grateful sigh. Cordelia didn’t waste a second laying into the man trapped in his bed. “I read those stupid prophecies you actually thought were genuine. What the hell were you thinking? How could you ever for one minute believe that Angel would ever hurt Connor? Are you brain damaged or something?” She glared at him, arms akimbo and she'd clearly gotten over any desire she might have had to try and be understanding. “That’s a rhetorical question, by the way, and I wouldn’t want to hear your answer even if you _could_ talk, which I’m glad you can’t, because I don’t want to hear a word you have to say. Ever. Oh, and don’t even think of coming back to the hotel again. There’s no forgiveness for you. You’re not one of us. I don’t think you ever were.” Wesley winced visibly and it was clear that Cordelia’s words had hurt him. Was it wrong that Willow’s own inner cheerleader was shaking her pom-poms right now?  
  
But if Cordelia’s tirade had wounded Wesley, it was clear that the sword was double-edged. She should step in and steer her… well, maybe they _were_ friends now, friends-in-the-making anyway. At any rate, she ought to at least help her make an exit. “We should go, Cordelia.” She wondered if she should say anything about Connor being home safe and sound, but maybe letting Wesley suffer, still thinking the boy was gone, was the right call. After all, if Cordelia hadn’t said anything, why should she?   
  
“You’re right. We have good to do and a detective agency to run.” With that, Willow was guided out of the room.  
  
When they got to the elevator, Willow could see that the normally cool and poised woman’s hands were shaking. “God I wanted to kill him. If you hadn’t saved…” She sighed heavily. “Orange is so not my colour.”   
  
It took Willow a second or two, but she made the connection to prison uniforms. “No.” This was the time for levity so she channeled Buffy. “Plus, jumpsuits? They’re so two seasons ago.”  
  
The doors opened and the two women got in, Cordelia smiling again. “Thanks,” she said, and Willow got it. Yeah, they were friends now.  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	19. Chapter 19

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Nineteen)  
  
  
  
On the drive back to the hotel, Willow had filled Cordelia in on some of the details of the evolution of her relationship with Spike and Cordelia had reciprocated with the story of her and Groo; now all she wanted was a quick chat with the others about the meeting with Wesley and the chance to spend some quality time with her guy. She had a hunch that was exactly what Cordelia wanted as well.  
  
Neither one of them seemed to have an in with the Powers that Be right now because the first thing they were confronted with upon reentering the Hyperion was everyone standing in the lobby listening to a near-hysterical Fred.  
  
“I know he’s in trouble! Charles would never say those things to me!”  
  
Okay, walking in at the halfway point of a conversation was never good. Charles? It took Willow a second, but then she remembered that Charles was Gunn’s first name. All right. That solved one problem. It was the trouble part that was confusing her. Of course, she didn’t seem to be the only one. Cordelia looked puzzled and even the people she assumed had been here from the get-go had ‘we just don’t get it’ expressions. Good. Willow hated feeling stupid and out of the loop.  
  
Further listening to Fred’s fractured rambling wasn’t helping – and that too seemed to be true for everyone else. Including Spike, who was never able to contain himself when he got exasperated. Was it wrong that Willow was kind of grateful that he was only slightly bigger with the tact than Anya? Because at least he was trying to get them all somewhere. “Look, luv, I gather that Charles acted a royal prat. Hate to tell you this, though, but that’s par for the course for the male of the species. We’re bastards the lot of us and not much good at letting the fairer sex down gently. Doesn’t mean we’re _in_ trouble – well, not unless the bird we’re breaking up with is armed.”  
  
Groo now looked more hopelessly confused than ever and what he said next… “Birds? How would you have a relationship with a bird? I was not aware that humans and animals here…” Oh god.  
  
Cordelia stepped in. “It’s just an expression that means ‘girl’. Slang. From England. That’s where Spike’s from.”  
  
The expression of confusion faded and he nodded and smiled. It was amazing how unoffended he was. It was sort of cute. He wasn’t exactly the kind of guy she’d have ever pictured with Cordelia, but then again, her new friend/old acquaintance had changed. This guy might be perfect for the more mature version of Queen C.  
  
“Can we get back to Charles?” Fred cried. “Because he’s not like you, Spike. He’s good and he’s kind and he would never say the things he said to me. He’s in trouble!”  
  
Okay, insulting her guy? Not okay. But Willow chalked it up to Fred’s hysteria and she began to wonder if maybe there was something to it. She wasn’t Buffy, but she had spider senses of her own and they were tingling. There was energy emanating from something – creepy, magical energy… and that something was a someone: Groo.  
  
Had she been wrong in thinking he was a nice guy? But if she had, why hadn’t she felt this energy earlier? If only Tara were here, because she knew how to aura read. Goddess, what to do… what to do…  
  
Arguing and discussion were still going on, some of it – Spike’s section – a bit on the snide and defensive side, but Willow paid it no heed and blurted out, “Empty your pockets, Groo.” Everyone stopped talking and turned to stare at her, so she added, “Please?”  
  
Angel locked eyes with her and then instructed Groo, “Do it.”  
  
With truly unflappable equanimity and a smile that reminded her of Riley, he did as asked. Much to Willow’s shock, Cordelia said nothing as he complied. As she looked over the few items he laid on the front desk, her senses immediately drew her to a business card. She touched it and… ewww… very creepy. “Where did you get this?”  
  
Groo smiled again, “A creature who was looking for Gunn gave that rectangle to me yesterday and asked me to give it to him.”  
  
Before she could pick it up and look at it, Angel grabbed it. “Jenoff,” he said and though the name was unfamiliar, Willow felt a cold chill go up her spine.  
  
“Who is he?”  
  
“The Soul Sucker.”  
  
Memories of Rack and the tours he took flashed through her mind and for a moment she was short of breath. A Soul Sucker sounded even worse than her one-time magic dealer and he’d been a nightmare.  
  
This card meant that everyone owed Fred a really big apology. Because Gunn? He was in trouble.  
  
  
  
A casino? Really? Even Spike was rolling his eyes at the rather clichéd environment. You know, demons really needed to learn how not to be ridiculous.   
  
And Willow really needed to learn to keep her mind in the moment because they were all now surrounded by really ugly demons dressed like bouncers from some bad movie about Las Vegas. Great. At least her side had weapons, right?  
  
“Charles!” Fred cried and, peering through the wall of beefy demonic muscle surrounding them, Willow could just make out Gunn… being held back by an even creepier demon than the ones with whom Angel, Groo, and Spike were now tussling. Spike was actually grinning. It was scary how much he loved to fight. Scarier still that, without magic, Willow could do nothing but stand back and watch. She really needed to start training because she wasn’t going to slide back down the slippery slope.  
  
A second later, Angel had one of the demons in a headlock with an axe at his neck. “What does a guy have to do to talk to the boss around here?”  
  
A demon in a tux stepped forward, doing his best DeNiro. “I’m the boss. Mind tellin’ me why you’re disrupting my business?”  
  
“I’d say it was you who’s disrupting mine,” Angel answered, throttling his prisoner some more for good measure. “You’re about to deprive me of a very valuable employee. Charles Gunn, there? He works for me.”  
  
“A good businessman looks into the backgrounds of potential employees. Had you done that, you might've learned he was strictly short-term material.”  
  
Oh goddess. Gunn had really done this, hadn’t he? He’d sold his soul. How stupid…? Okay, maybe her house was a little too fragile and transparent for her to be throwing stones and all, but… what had he done?  
  
Angel was still posturing. “You release him, forget what he owes you -- and I'll let you live.”   
  
Okay, that would have worked a whole lot better if Jenoff didn’t have the upper hand, which he knew because after a very sarcastic “Thank you”, his next words were “Kill ‘em,” followed by a whole lot of demons getting ready to do just that. Spike stood in front of her and Willow began praying to the goddess, wondering what to do.  
  
But then she was distracted. Because just the very minute after she’d decided that Gunn was at least her equal in the ‘Really Bad Decisions Sweepstakes’, Angel said something that showed he might be stupider than the both of them. “Double or nothing.”  
  
What?  
  
“You offerin' me your soul?”  
  
“A chance to win it, anyway.”  
  
“How stupid do I look to you? You're a vampire. I can smell it from here.”  
  
“Take a bigger whiff. I'm a vampire with a soul.”  
  
Willow was about to object, strenuously, when Spike shook his head. Okay, if he thought they could handle this…  
  
Jenoff inhaled deeply. First he smiled, then he inhaled again, and then his expression grew dark and angry. “What the hell game are you trying to play?” He glared daggers at Angel. “You’re trying to bet with something that you don’t own. Did you think I wouldn’t be able to tell?”  
  
Huh? What? Spike and Angel both looked at her and she shrugged her confusion. No, she had no idea what that meant. But they had bigger problems now, because Jenoff spat out, “Kill them all now… so Gunn here can watch his little friends die before I collect my debt.”  
  
She wasn’t a demon, but even she could sense the panic surging through her whole group.  
  
Oddly, she wasn’t sharing it. The same feeling she’d felt right before she’d done the spell to save Connor washed through her and she reached out her hand, making sure Jenoff was clear of Gunn before she pointed and cried, “Incendere!”  
  
And just like that, the Soul Sucker was consumed by flames for an instant before the space where he’d stood was as empty as if he’d never stood there.   
  
As for the demons, they all seemed to have stuff to do elsewhere and the casino emptied out almost as quickly as Jenoff had died, though a lot more noisily.  
  
Well, except for the seven of them.  
  
Spike put his arm around her and kissed her cheek reverently before snarking, “Bit of an anticlimax, that.”  
  
Gunn was already wrapped tight in Fred’s embrace when he said, “Seemed just fine to me.” He turned his head and looked at Willow. “Thank you.”   
  
“Yeah, thanks, Willow,” Cordelia added.  
  
“You are a very powerful sorcerer,” Groo said, smiling. “We are fortunate that you fight on our side.”  
  
Angel, though, wore a very serious expression. He was probably thinking about how Connor was doing back at the hotel with only Lorne to protect him. “Let’s go,” he said, but instead of rushing out the door, he somehow directed traffic so that Groo, Gunn, Cordelia, and Fred were out of the casino before she and Spike… and him. He had something to say, and he did. “When we get back to the hotel, we need to talk.” Okay, obviously she’d been wrong about the source of his dour mood. Guess he hadn’t forgotten what Jenoff had said about his soul.  
  
She hadn’t either. What in the heck was going on?  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	20. Chapter 20

  
Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Twenty)  
  
  
  
Lorne wasn’t glaring at her, thank heavens, but Willow could tell that he still didn’t like her. One of these days, she was going to have to get him alone and ask him what the heck his problem was.   
  
That day wasn’t going to be tonight, since Angel was basically ordering him from the room where Connor was happily cooing in his crib and now… well, now the three of them were going to have a talk, huh? She held tight to Spike’s hand and noticed he was holding tight right back. He was nervous, too, it seemed.  
  
Of course, then she found a small reason to relax – a baby-sized reason, in fact. How bad could things get with Connor in the room?   
  
A moment later, with Lorne safely away, Willow found out. “What the hell did Jenoff mean about my soul?” Angel asked, his voice tight through gritted teeth.  
  
Okay, that was pretty much the question she’d expected, unfortunately… “I don’t know.” Which was true. She had no idea what Jenoff was talking about.   
  
Unfortunately, Angel wasn’t going to take that for an answer. In fact, he was glaring at her so angrily that Spike actually stepped in front of her. “She doesn’t know,” he affirmed, and even though Willow couldn’t see his face, she knew he was matching Angel’s glare with a fierce one of his own. Gosh but she loved Spike.  
  
Still, in the interest of preserving the peace, she decided to try and spitball a little. “Maybe it has something to do with me giving it to you?” But even as she said it, she didn’t believe it… and she realized that Jenoff’s revelation raised a lot of brand new questions about the curse. Was it even in place? Could Angel have been allowed to be happy all this time without knowing it? Oh god – what about Buffy? But then there was the _really_ big question: If it wasn’t Angel’s soul to wager, was it even Angel’s soul at all?  
  
Oh goddess! Had she given Angel the wrong soul?  
  
The more thinking she did, the worse everything seemed. She needed to get out of here before she blurted something out. “I… I should go meditate. Sometimes when I do that, I get answers.” Again, she was being honest , because she was definitely going to meditate right this second – if by meditation, you meant ‘beg and plead with the goddess and every other deity out there to give her some answers’.  
  
She kissed Spike on the cheek. “I need to be alone for this, okay?”   
  
“You go find your answers, pet.” He pulled her into a quick embrace and she could feel his nervousness. As much as misery was supposed to love company, she hated that he was obviously as worried as she was.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Angel interjected. “I know you’ve never kept anything from me. I just…”  
  
“I get it. I can see why you’d be kind of unsettled.” Boy was that ever an understatement. He probably had more right to be nervous than any of them. But he was giving her another of those really strange looks that she’d been getting a lot these days and it made her wish her car wasn’t trapped at the repair shop. “”I’m gonna go… do the meditation and everything.”  
  
Giving Spike another quick hug, she hurried out of Angel’s room. She had to be able to find the answer to what was going on with Angel’s soul. Surely the goddess would help her and enlighten her.  
  
Unfortunately, just as she was about to open the door to her room, she remembered she was going to need something – something important. For this kind of meditation, sticking to the rules and rituals was almost certainly her best bet, so a white candle? Pretty much mandatory. But she’d already used the one she had. Darn it! Why had she only brought _one_? Okay, yes, she’d thought all she’d be doing was getting Connor back and then heading right home to Sunnydale, so she… was still kicking herself because experience should have taught her to be prepared for the unexpected by now. All she could do was hope the candle she needed was in what had once been Wesley’s office.   
  
So she headed straight downstairs and went straight to that very office. Nope, it hadn’t been emptied, and she rooted through what hadn’t made its way back to Wesley tonight, which included a surprising amount of magic supplies along with almost all of those rare books she’d drooled over when they’d been researching. Guess Angel had decided to keep them. Well, she wasn’t going to feel badly. She figured Wesley barely deserved the paperweights and other tchotchkes she and Cordelia had returned to him – he’d sent Connor to Quor’toth.   
  
Luck was with her and she found not only a white candle but some sacred sand. Jackpot!   
  
When she came out of the room, she half expected to see Spike poking around for something to occupy him. He wasn’t… oh goddess. Please let him not have stayed in the room with Angel because she was not willing to trust Connor’s presence to keep them from staking each other.  
  
Worried, she decided to postpone the meditation long enough to go check on them and, quietly because she wanted to hear what was going on before she burst in, she crept up to the door. It was still ajar – not far enough to see anything, but enough for her to hear what was going on. Good.   
  
Of course, just like before, she was late to the party and had obviously missed some important elements of the discussion.  
  
“I’m telling you again, I’m not interested in her.”  
  
“That’s right, Angelus. You just keep tellin’ yourself that. I saw the way you were looking at her.” Huh? Spike couldn’t mean… She kept listening for some clarification, but there wasn’t any.  
  
Instead, there was a long pause and Angel spoke, his voice a whole lot huskier than she was used to from him when he had his soul. Her stomach dropped. “Jealous, William?”  
  
“Not bloody likely. Got over you a long time ago, you arrogant git.” It sounded as if he was going to say more, but instead she heard a noise and then nothing.  
  
A sense of foreboding filled her and she couldn’t help herself – pushing the door open ever so slightly and hoping they didn’t notice, she peered into the room.  
  
Oh no. Oh goddess no.  
  
Spike was kissing Angel. Or Angel was kissing Spike. Or they were kissing each other. It didn’t matter. What mattered was that the man she loved was in the arms of his sire and even though what they were doing looked aggressive and angry… She’d been afraid of this, hadn’t she? That Spike and Angel still had feelings for each other. She tried to back away silently, but she stumbled and dropped the candle. Oh great.  
  
In an instant, Spike and Angel parted and raced out into the hall where she was trying to pick up her candle – and her dignity. “Love, it wasn’t what it looked like. I swear to you.”  
  
“Really?” She tried not to sound as hurt and angry as she felt – she wasn’t sure she had a right to either emotion – but she couldn’t help it. “Because it looked like you guys were kissing and… okay, yeah, I get that you guys have history, but…”  
  
“We need to talk.” Angel’s voice was low, but somehow it commanded at the same time and when Spike made to argue, Angel cut him off. “I’m going to talk to her, William.” He nodded back towards his room. “Keep an eye on Connor.”   
  
“You’d better…”  
  
Angel cut him off again. “I will.”   
  
Spike turned to her. “I love you. Believe that.” Then he did as he’d been told and went back into Angel’s room. This time, he closed the door. Was that merely literal or was there a frightening metaphor there as well?  
  
Well, she guessed she’d have to postpone thinking about that, because even though he wasn’t her sire, Angel’s whole ‘command’ thing seemed to have the same effect on her as it did on Spike. His hand was on her arm and she wasn’t making any move to tell him to just go away and leave her alone. Quite the opposite. Clutching her candle and sand, Willow let Angel lead her back to the room she’d been sharing with Spike. She had no idea what he was going to say, but she was pretty sure she didn’t want to hear it.  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	21. Chapter 21

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Twenty-One)  
  
  
  
Still feeling that sense of foreboding in the pit of her stomach, Willow put the sand and candle on the bed as Angel closed the door behind them.   
  
Oh goddess. Door closed. She turned and looked him straight in the eye, willing herself not to hate him. It didn’t work, but she kept trying even as the image of him kissing Spike insisted on swimming before her eyes… eyes that she couldn’t stop from filling with tears.  
  
Great. Now he could see how pathetic she was.  
  
“Sit down.” It was an order. She wasn’t the easily-cowed little girl she’d once been, but she obeyed anyway, hating herself all the while, and in a second she was perched primly on the edge of the bed. Angel loomed over her. “There are things you don’t understand. Things about vampires.”  
  
She was about to argue that point, but his face… no, she was not going to contradict him. Besides, he was probably right. Sure, she knew a lot about vampires from the ‘fighting them’ side and a little bit from the ‘being in love with one’ side, but… yeah, there was a lot she didn’t know and she had a feeling she needed to if she was going to hang on to Spike. Wiping away the last vestige of tears, she steeled herself and locked eyes with Angel. “Tell me.”  
  
The grin he favored her with was mirthless and faded quickly. “Do you remember when we talked the other night? About family?” She nodded and he continued, seeming almost lost in himself for a moment. “Humans have no idea… For us, family is everything. We don’t separate our lives and our needs from our blood.”  
  
It didn’t take long for Willow to get what he meant and it explained so much – so much that she supposed she already knew…and that she feared. She could feel the agony of loss already and it promised to be worse than losing Oz and even Tara had been. A part of her screamed to just get it over with because anticipation could only heighten her pain, but instead of asking about… well, instead she asked, “What about Buffy?”  
  
“She was a mistake.” Angel’s words were a gut punch to the best friend of that very girl, but he continued as if he couldn’t see the stricken look on her face. “She was me trying to be human. I loved her. I loved her in a way I’ve never loved anyone, but… I loved her with the man I used to be, not the one I _am_.”   
  
All she had to be grateful for right now was that Buffy wasn’t here to hear what Willow just had – would never learn a bit of it if Willow had her way, and she would. But she herself wasn’t going to have that same protection. Trying to keep her voice from shaking, she asked the question whose answer was sure to shatter her into a million pieces, the answer Spike had already given her the moment his lips touched Angel’s: “What about me?”  
  
She thought she saw a bright flash of gold in Angel’s eyes but it was gone so quickly she couldn’t be sure it had been there at all. A second later, he took her hand, looked into her eyes and said, “You’re family.”  
  
The intensity of his gaze was almost frightening, but she couldn’t look away. She did, however, manage to ask, “Why me? How am I different from Buffy?”  
  
If she was expecting him to blink, she was disappointed. She’d also half expected the obvious answer: You’re not a Slayer. She didn’t get that either. “I don’t know,” he answered in a voice low but not soft and oddly devoid of the uncertainty his words should carry. “But Spike felt it, right from the beginning… and so have I.”  
  
“What do you mean?” Even as she asked, she wasn’t sure she wanted to know. She was feeling a rush of guilt about Buffy right now, like she was in an exclusive club her best friend hadn’t been invited to join. Did Buffy ever feel like this about being a Slayer?  
  
No, she knew Buffy never had, but somehow it did nothing to lessen the guilt.  
  
Angel’s voice didn’t lessen it either, and if it was a distraction, it wasn’t necessarily a welcome one. “Why do you think Spike kidnapped you? You think there weren’t other witches in the world? More experienced ones? He was drawn to you… like calling to like.” He paused and Willow realized with a start that she was standing now and he was perilously close. “It’s the same for me.”  
  
While she hadn’t wondered what it would be like to kiss the lips her lover had just kissed, she was finding out anyway – Angel was kissing her.   
  
She hadn’t realized how much tension there had been between them until now. It was as if a cloud had burst. This, though? It was no healing rain, no, no. It was a violent storm with crashes of dangerous lightning and if Willow had felt guilty before, she felt worse now – worse even than she’d felt when Oz caught her with Xander. She pushed against him, willing him to let go, tempted to use magic to make it happen if he didn’t.   
  
Luckily, she never had to find out if she would have given in because Angel pulled back. Just as he did, the break in contact reminded her of a feeling which had been the exact opposite. “The spell,” she babbled, “This is that spell. I knew it meant something… the way… oh goddess! What did I do?”  
  
Angel was staring at her in confusion and she tried to explain, caught in a rush of emotions that ping-ponged between frantic relief because maybe this was something that wasn’t real and could be undone to more powerful guilt than ever because if it _was_ the spell, then it was her fault for using magic again and… “During the spell, I felt…”  
  
“Our hands becoming one,” he finished.  
  
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. This is all my fault. I knew someone else should have done the spell to get Connor back. I should have asked Giles. I know I could have made him understand if I just…”  
  
“No you couldn’t have,” Angel interrupted harshly. “You did the spell because you were the only one who could. I talked to other witches, you know. They all said it couldn’t be done. Calling you was my last resort.” That last had obviously been something he hadn’t intended to reveal because he looked ashamed the moment he blurted it out. He hastened to clarify. “Only because I didn’t want Buffy to know about Connor.”  
  
“It’s okay,” she said automatically, even though it was a big lie, because _nothing_ was okay. Not now, maybe not ever. Everything was slotting itself into places in her head, trying to find itself a neat, logical, orderly pattern, and all she could think of was that, while she could blame Angel kissing _her_ on the spell, she couldn’t blame that for what happened between him and Spike. “You want him to stay, don’t you?” she said softly, her voice nearly a whisper. “Spike. You want him to stay.” Angel reached out to stroke her hair, but she jerked her head away. “Just be honest with me, all right?”  
  
There was that angry look she remembered from the night she’d offered to pay for her dinner. “I _have_ been,” he all but growled, and, for all the magic at her disposal, Willow was more than a bit cowed.  
  
Stepping back, she took a breath and rephrased. “That’s not what I meant. I just… This is my life, Angel.” Her eyes filled with tears as she stared into his. “I need to know what’s going to happen.”  
  
Angel stepped forward, reaching out for her again. This time she let him touch her cheek. “He loves you. That hasn’t changed.”  
  
“But you…”  
  
“He’s my blood. That hasn’t changed either.”   
  
“It’s different, isn’t it? I mean from the way people – human-type people – feel about blood and family and stuff.” Because she’d never felt anything like the way Angel and Spike felt for any of _her_ relatives, not even her cousin Jacob, who was actually cute.  
  
He nodded. “It’s very different, so different I don’t think I can explain…”   
  
“I get it,” Willow cut him off. She’d grown sick of people telling her there was stuff she couldn’t understand long ago. She’d saved the numberless acceptance letters she’d gotten from every major university in the USA and half the ones in Europe. Why did no one ever treat her like someone with a working brain?  
  
“You don’t,” he challenged and what he said next stopped her short. “It’s not that you’re not intelligent. You’re one of the most brilliant women I’ve ever known. But this isn’t about…” He chuckled and she wondered why until he continued. “Spike said something about blood, not brains, once. He was talking about…,” another pause before Angel said, “something else. But it fits here. What we have” – the way he said ‘we’ was a subtle but definite inclusion and Willow felt that strange sensation of being accepted into a world where no one else she knew could follow – “it’s not like anything humans know.” He said ‘humans’ as if she wasn’t one, but she was, wasn’t she?  
  
She was. She was human. It all crashed down on her – the thoughts of growing older while her lover stayed forever young, her uncertainty about the spell… the vision of Spike locked in Angel’s embrace. “I need to be alone.” She’d meant to be strong and emphatic but instead her words were a plea. Oh well, at least Angel seemed to heed it.   
  
He turned for the door. Just as he was about to open it, he looked back at her. “Spike loves you. Where you go, he’ll follow.”  
  
Then he was gone.  
  
Willow burst into tears.  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	22. Chapter 22

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Twenty-Two)  
  
  
  
If ever there was a time when Willow needed the guidance of her goddess, it was now, but in the state she was in, meditation was the impossible dream. Her head was swirling with fear and raw emotion in a chaotic maelstrom. What was she going to do?   
  
Focusing on Angel’s curse wasn’t helping either, not like she’d ever forgotten it. How could she? But the curse hadn’t stopped Angel from kissing Spike – or from kissing _her_ – had it? And somehow it didn’t in any way diminish her anxiety about what the heck was going on between them all.  
  
She knew what Angel said about Spike’s feelings for her, but she also knew that what he’d told her about demons was absolutely true and that because of that Angel and Spike had a bond that was never going to be broken, even if it had seemed to be dormant until… well, until this visit to Los Angeles. This was all so confusing. Had the spell done this? It couldn’t be responsible for _everything_ , because she’d sensed Spike’s ambivalence about Angel back home when he’d been the one who’d encouraged her to get permission to come here and rescue Connor in the first place.  
  
But what about what had happened between Angel and _her_? As upset as she was about catching Spike and Angel, that didn’t change the fact that she still felt guilty, more and more guilty by the second in fact. She didn’t even try to rationalize it as payback. Wrong was wrong, wasn’t it?  
  
Out of the blue, she realized she wanted so badly to talk this over with Buffy, but she couldn’t – she so couldn’t – and as much as she’d totally intended to _call_ her best friend, there was no way she could talk to her anytime soon. Thinking about her made the tears fall harder than ever. This made _two_ of Buffy’s guys she’d smooched – and, in Spike’s case, done a whole lot more with – and she was starting to think that maybe that fluke with Xander hadn’t been so much a fluke as a preview of coming attractions.  
  
That was silly, though, wasn’t it? It wasn’t like Angel and Buffy were still a couple or anything… but Buffy still loved him and Willow knew it.   
  
She’d always thought of herself as a good person, except for her descent into bad magic, but now she was starting to wonder. Had Spike been wrong about her?  
  
If only her car wasn’t trapped at some overpriced mechanic’s shop. She wanted to flee as fast as that car could carry her, not that she could, at least not with… not with Spike.   
  
Unable to help herself, she lay across the bed and burst into tears again.   
  
So lost in her emotions was she that she didn’t hear the door open and she almost jumped out of her skin when she felt the bed dip beside her. “Who… oh.”  
  
It was Spike. She struggled to sit up and, after she wiped her eyes, she could see that she wasn’t the only one who was upset; pain was written all over his face. Surprisingly, it didn’t make her feel any better. Guess her misery didn’t love company after all. “Hey, love.” He reached for her and she let him take her hand, realizing how heated her anguish had made her by how cold his skin felt against hers.  
  
She intended to ask about his feelings for Angel, but what burst forth was a choked, “I love you,” and a fresh flood of tears.  
  
In a flash, she was in Spike’s arms, held so tight she could scarcely breathe. “I love you, too. More than anything. Please believe me.”  
  
Clinging to him, she wanted to reassure him, but… it wasn’t that simple. Yes, she knew he loved her, but everything Angel had said about blood and family was roiling around within her and the truth was that, though Angel had _called_ her family, she wasn’t, was she? How could she be? There wasn’t that bond of blood between them, and that’s what it all came down to with vampires. But she whispered, “I know,” to Spike because she couldn’t bring herself to admit how terrified she was.  
  
There was stuff they needed to talk about and she knew it, but she wasn’t thinking about that now. She needed Spike. So she extricated herself briefly from his embrace, grabbed the sand and candles, put them on the night stand, and then pulled Spike close and kissed him.  
  
As if she needed a reminder, no, it was nothing like kissing Angel. It wasn’t stormy and terrifying – instead it was like finding a piece of herself again. Was it the same for him? Did she give him something he couldn’t get from anyone else?  
  
“I love you.” He said it over and over between kisses as they frantically undressed each other and she said it right back, all the while wondering just what it meant to him… and if it even mattered. Because…  
  
Oh goddess. She was about to have sex with someone she loved under false pretenses again, wasn’t she? And if this time it didn’t smack of anything nearly as terrible as the memory spell she’d performed on Tara, there was still the fact that Spike didn’t know something important and he needed to – didn’t he? Pulling back slightly, she looked into Spike’s eyes and blurted out, “He kissed me.”  
  
Spike’s eyes flashed gold and for the briefest of moments she saw ridges and fangs. “That bastard!” he growled. It was probably a good thing she hadn’t managed to get his jeans off, because Spike was off the bed a second later and out the door.   
  
What had she done? Grateful her own jeans were still on, she grabbed her shirt and, throwing it on sans bra to save time, she dashed out after Spike, hoping he didn’t get himself killed.  
  
It wasn’t hard to guess where he’d gone; she raced to Angel’s room. The door was wide open and she could immediately see that her presence might be all to the good for the sake of their safety. Both men were in full game face and battle posture, heedless of Connor, who could obviously feel the tension in the air because he was crying.   
  
“Angel,” she cried out, “you’re upsetting your son!” Why her words got through when the baby’s wails hadn’t, Willow had no idea, but at least something did, because Angel’s posture fractionally relaxed, as did Spike’s, and their human faces slowly returned. Surprising herself, she hurried to the crib and picked up Connor, rocking him and cooing to him. “It’s all right. Tante Willow is here. It’s all right.” Tante Willow? Really? What was she thinking? But she kept rocking the baby.   
  
Spike, however, still had things to say to Angel. “You just can’t stop yourself, can you, Angelus? You can’t leave anything that’s mine alone.”  
  
Angel shot her a quick look, but he didn’t seem surprised, and he shouldn’t be. She didn’t keep secrets from Spike. “I’m not trying to take her away from you.”  
  
A loud snort was Spike’s first response, then he said, “Tell that to those idiots you work with. That lot might believe that your soul makes you all sweetness and light. I know better. I know _you_. You don’t think I’ve seen the way you’ve been lookin’ at her from the minute we got here?”  
  
Huh? Angel hadn’t been… Willow didn’t know what to think about that because she was remembering looks he’d given her and… but that was stuff to ponder later, right along with the fact that maybe there was a little bit of a hypocrisy in Spike being this upset about Angel kissing her when he and Angel… No, more important was something going on right this minute. She didn’t like the way that both Angel _and_ Spike were talking about her as if she were a possession. She had free will, thank you very much, and nobody could ‘take’ her from anyone. “I’m not a thing,” she interrupted. “I make up my own mind about who I want to be with.” Even with her arms full of now-calm infant, she could still muster up her Resolve Face and she was gratified that both men were now looking at _her_.  
  
She took a deep breath and continued. “Look, a lot of stuff has happened tonight and a lot of stuff needs to get dealt with, but I don’t think now is the time for any of it. We all need some space.” She handed Connor back to his father and continued. “I’m sure there’s another room where Spike can sleep or whatever. I need to do that meditation we talked about before…” Her voice trailed off and she walked up to Spike, kissing him softly. “I’ll just be a little while,” she whispered. “I love you.”  
  
“Love you, too,” he answered in a voice that was low but full of emotion. “Mind you remember that.”  
  
Nodding, she kissed him again, quickly, and then headed back to her room. How it had happened, she didn’t know, but somehow, despite all the chaos and conflict, she was ready now.  
  
It was time to ask the goddess for that guidance she – _they_ \- needed.  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	23. Chapter 23

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Twenty-Three)  
  
  
  
Willow sat on the floor in the center of the circle she’d drawn with sacred sand, the room illuminated only by candles. Deep, calm breath followed deep, calm breath as she sank slowly into the meditative state required to approach the goddess and receive enlightenment. She was doing everything correctly, approaching in humility, following all the steps purely…  
  
But it wasn’t going at all the way she expected.  
  
Instead of feeling the warm and loving presence of her goddess, she felt something powerful, but remote and unfamiliar, as if her phone call had been intercepted by a stranger. It was scarier than that, though, especially since, when she tried to pull back, she failed.  
  
Her questions fell from her hands, and there were answers of a sort, but… no, they weren’t the answers she was looking for. At least she didn’t think so. But try as she might, she could get nothing more. Whatever power it was who had taken over this encounter, it was clear that they weren’t interested in her peace of mind.   
  
When her eyes finally opened, she felt more confused than ever. What had happened? Was this yet another example of her magic going horribly wrong? Why hadn’t she entered the presence of her goddess? And whose energy had it been which surrounded her instead?  
  
She took a deep breath, feeling an odd sense of reassurance, as if the goddess had blessed her after all, but it was faint and distant and it did nothing to give her the answers she was still without.  
  
Deciding instead to focus on what she had, she cleared her mind, reaching for what she’d brought with her when she emerged from her meditation. It wasn’t much. It was actually less than she thought now that she looked at it. Something about balancing the scales and powers joined for a higher purpose. That and the fact that it couldn’t be undone.  
  
What it amounted to? That feeling of joining flesh they’d experienced when saving Connor seemed to mean that they were really… joined. Which she guessed was why Angel’s soul wasn’t available to place bets with anymore. It was part of a package now.  
  
But what did it all mean? Was the spell the reason Angel had kissed her? What about Spike? He didn’t even _have_ a soul. And what about him and Angel? Did that have anything to do with the spell? What about Angel’s soul? Did this change the clause? What about her life in Sunnydale? What about Buffy?  
  
Goddess, her head felt as if the questions were about to explode inside it, but there was nothing she could do. Clearly, she wasn’t going to get any answers, at least not now. Maybe knowing _something_ was supposed to be good enough.  
  
She could only imagine how Spike was going to feel, though, and it was a darn good thing he didn’t have the mojo to enter the presence of the higher powers or he’d start a ruckus they’d never be forgiven for.   
  
With a sigh, she rose to her feet and began cleaning up, though she was going to need a vacuum to get all the sand. Did Angel even have a vacuum? Who polished the furniture and did the floors around here, anyway? A glance at the dust bunnies made her think the answer to that was probably ‘no one.’ But at least – hey – a question with an answer. That was of the good at the moment.   
  
Another heavy sigh as she stared down at the floor where the circle was now mostly obliterated and the candles were absent. Guess she should go find Spike and tell him what little she’d learned; Angel too. Again, the impulse to just grab Spike and leave overwhelmed her, but her car… Oh heck. She was trapped here now, wasn’t she? And so was Spike. That was something concrete she could extrapolate from the paltry scraps she’d been handed by… whoever. Well, at least now maybe she knew why a perfectly reliable automobile had suddenly and inexplicably died in a fast food parking lot, huh?  
  
Speaking of which, she still hadn’t heard from the darn mechanics.  
  
Enough stalling, Willow. Time to go and let everyone know what little you’ve managed to dig up about the mystery of Angel’s soul.  
  
So that’s what she did. She walked out into the hall and turned right, figuring Spike had tried to find a place as far away from Angel as possible. Her supposition was proved correct when she opened the very last door at the end of the hall, saw Spike lying on the bed, and… sneezed. Goddess this room was dusty. Something needed to be done.   
“Gesundheit,” he offered, getting up and coming to her. “Sorry about the state of this place. Cheap bastard as always, that Angel. Won’t even get someone in to clean this dump.”  
  
“I noticed.”   
  
There was a long silence as he pulled her into a hug, but then he asked, “So, what did the goddess have to say?”  
  
Spike had just lobbed a super opportunity to go off on a tangent right at her, but no, she wasn’t going to use it, even if it might be a good idea to explain to him that the goddess didn’t exactly sit across the table from her and chit-chat. Communication with higher powers didn’t work that way. But explaining how it actually worked could wait. Right now, she needed to tell him what had happened. Pulling out of his arms, she took his hand and looked into his eyes. “I didn’t actually manage to connect with the goddess.” He looked puzzled and she hastened to explain. “Oh, I tried, but something else kind of was there instead – not sure what or who except that they weren’t a bad guy or anything – and they weren’t all that forthcoming.” Or warm and comforting, she might add. “They were sort of… not all that friendly. Anyway, what I got is that we’re all joined now. Something about balance and a higher purpose. That seems to be why Angel couldn’t put up his soul as collateral. It’s not just his anymore. That’s pretty much all I’ve got though. Like I said, I wasn’t in the presence of the goddess, so I didn’t get what I expected. I’m sorry.”  
  
That last was an understatement because Spike’s eyes betrayed a host of questions whirring in his brain the same way questions were whirring in hers. “I really am sorry. I don’t know what happened. All I know is that I told you… oh, and it looks like it can’t be undone.”  
  
A moment later, she was back in Spike’s arms. “Not your fault, pet. Can’t say though that I enjoy the thought that I’m the puppet of some being for reasons I know bugger all about.” Could Willow possibly feel more guilt? Because Spike’s words reminded her of that horrible spell she’d done and the time it took his memories.  
  
“I’m so sorry,” she said over and over as she burst into tears. It seemed like every time she used magic, she hurt someone she loved. That could only mean one thing: Spike was wrong, wasn’t he? Deep down inside, Willow Rosenberg was evil.  
  
“It’s not your fault,” he repeated to her as he held her. She was about to argue with him when he added, “Don’t you go talking yourself into taking the blame for this like I know you’re doing. Because this latest adventure was my idea, not yours, and anyway, the goddess signed off on it. Might not like the way things have turned out right yet, maybe not ever, but that doesn’t mean it’s some mistake of yours. Sometimes the universe just has its way with ya, whether you like it or not.”  
  
He had a point, she supposed, but she was loath to let herself completely off the hook just yet. Of course, if she wanted to punish herself… “I guess I better go share the news with Angel.” He was probably not going to be as accepting as Spike of the paltry nature of her revelations… or of the fact that her spell probably created his weird attraction to her.  
  
“Let’s go then.” Wait a minute. Spike was…? “Not leaving you alone with that bastard again, love. Anyway, we’re in this together. The way we’ll always be. You and I were joined long before that ruddy spell, and it’s got nothing to do with magic.” He leaned in and kissed her softly. “I love you.”  
  
“I love you too,” she said before she sneezed again as their movements kicked up a dust bunny. “Let’s get this over with.”  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	24. Chapter 24

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Twenty-Four)  
  
  
  
Angel was downstairs in the office, Connor in tow, when Willow and Spike finally tracked him down, and Willow’s nerves were already jumping. When she saw him, she felt even worse. Her mind immediately went back to two kisses: the one she’d witnessed and the one she experienced. Which one was more upsetting? Darned if she knew.   
  
Taking her by surprise, Angel was the first one to speak. “The mechanic called. He has to replace your starter and your alternator. It’s going to be at least a week.” Oh great. She had no idea exactly how much all that was going to cost but it sounded expensive. “I’m paying for it,” Angel continued.  
  
She could feel Spike’s tension and she realized how much he wanted to be able to step in and cover the bill himself. The whole demon thing about taking care of his girl. Even back in Sunnydale, she knew he wasn’t thrilled about the fact that they were living in her house and she was pretty much the one who always paid for stuff. If only she could make him understand that she didn’t care about all that. It was the twenty-first century and gender roles were obsolete, even if vampires were slow to get the memo.  
  
Of course, the whole ‘paying’ thing might be moot if Angel got mad when she told him what had just happened with her meditation.   
  
And wouldn’t you know he asked about that right now. “Did you find out what Jenoff was talking about?”  
  
Willow smiled nervously. “Umm… sort of.”  
  
“What do you mean by sort of?”  
  
Angel was glowering and she was more anxious than ever, but she knew she had to tell him. “I didn’t… I tried to commune with the goddess but… it was weird. Some other being got in the way. Oh, nothing evil,” she hastened to explain, “it’s just that whoever it was wasn’t really friendly or forthcoming. Anyway, all they gave me was that the three of us are joined now for some higher purpose and that there’s something about balance.” She shrugged apologetically, but it was obvious Angel was thinking and didn’t really notice.  
  
“The Powers That Be,” he murmured, sounding almost angry.   
  
Willow was curious though. What did he mean? “The Powers That…?”  
  
“The Powers That Be,” he repeated, interrupting her. “They’re the ones… They send Cordelia her visions. They’re… I suppose you could say they’re in charge of my destiny. And no, they’re not exactly big on sharing information they don’t think is absolutely essential.”  
  
“But why wouldn’t they…?”  
  
“Let you talk to your goddess? I don’t know. But I can believe they’d interfere.”  
  
Spike began fuming at last, the way Willow had honestly expected him to earlier, only he was roaring at Angel, not her. “Great! Just bloody great! So your bosses have roped me into your mission, eh? Is there any power in this universe that doesn’t want to play games with my unlife?”  
  
Connor began to cry and Angel hurried over to the playpen in the corner. “Keep it down, Spike,” Angel growled as he picked up his son and began comforting him… in game face, which oddly seemed to calm the little boy instantly. Whoa. Who knew?  
  
Willow put her arm around Spike, trying to calm him. “It’s my fault,” she apologized. “If I hadn’t…”  
  
He kissed her cheek. “I shouldn’t have popped off the way I just did. Meant what I said before - it’s not your fault, love. Me and your goddess both signed off on the light show. Anyway, it’s all water under the bridge now, I s’pose. Better just make the best of it.” His words echoed what he’d said to her when they’d been alone and she was relieved.  
  
Angel’s eyes were on them now as they held each other, but the meaning of his expression eluded her. He was more inscrutable than Oz ever was. There were still those kisses to deal with too, weren’t there.  
  
“We should talk, shouldn’t we,” she said, “about what happened before.”  
  
His eyes narrowed and one corner of his mouth quirked slightly. “You mean when I kissed you?” He was posturing, wasn’t he? This was a demon she was dealing with and she was finally realizing that she was way out of her depth. Nothing in her life had prepared her for what it was going to be like to be Spike’s lover. Maybe if Oz had been part of a pack…  
  
“Not just that,” she replied, “when you kissed Spike, too.” Her love’s posture stiffened, but he stayed right beside her. “I’m not worried about when you kissed me.” Her chin was thrust out now and she met his gaze. “That was just this stupid spell. But if Spike and I have to stay here, and it sort of looks like we do, then I…”  
  
There was a flash of gold in Angel’s eyes and it stopped her short. “Why do you think it was the spell?”  
  
Okay, obviously he was offended at the idea that the… whatever you call them had manipulated his mind and implanted feelings that weren’t really his, but all of a sudden it made sense and she had the rational, logical arguments to prove it. “I’m so not your type, Angel. Darla, Buffy? They’re your type. If Tara were here, you’d totally be drooling. But me? No, it has to be the spell.”  
  
To her shock, it wasn’t Angel who argued with her. “Wish it were that simple,” Spike sighed in a low, sad voice.  
  
“It is,” she affirmed. “It has to be.” She turned to Spike. “Look, I’ve known Angel for years and trust me, he barely spoke to me back in Sunnydale. Even when he was in my bedroom and I was in my nightgown, all he could talk about was Buffy.”  
  
Of course Spike latched onto one particular part of her recitation and he turned an accusatory gaze on Angel. “You were in her bedroom?”  
  
Willow stepped into Spike’s sightline to block out Angel and make herself clear. “He was there to ask my help to save Buffy, okay? Which is my point. All he’s ever been able to think about, _ever_ , is Buffy. There’s no way he’s suddenly attracted to me.”  
  
Just when she thought she had the situation well in hand, Angel had to step in and spoil everything. “It’s not that sudden.”  
  
“You’re not helping,” she hissed, “and anyway, how can it not be sudden? We’ve barely talked to each other in years and you were never…”  
  
“He was,” Spike chimed in. Great. Whose side was he on? “What the hell do you think those fish meant? And your favorite teacher?”  
  
“William,” Angel growled, but it was too late for her to un-hear what Spike had just said and her stomach dropped.  
  
Was it her fault that Ms. Calendar was dead? No, no, no. Her eyes filled with tears. “He’s wrong, isn’t he?” she pleaded.  
  
Connor began fussing and Angel walked over and handed him to Spike. “Take him to Fred. She can change him and feed him.”  
  
“I’m not leavin’ you alone with her.”  
  
“Nothing’s going to happen. I give you my word.”  
  
The two men exchanged a long look. This time Willow didn’t try to break through the fog of testosterone. She was a vampire’s girl now and this was never going to be a modern relationship, was it?   
  
“See you keep that promise,” Spike replied before turning to Willow, cradling Connor with surprising gentleness and familiarity. “You two need to talk. But don’t be afraid to mojo him right back to dust if he puts his hands on you.”  
  
“I love you,” was her reply, and Spike smiled before he glowered at Angel one last time and took Connor off to be tended.  
  
Now that Spike was gone, everything came crashing down again, but then… oh gosh! Maybe it was still a manipulated attraction and none of what Angelus had done was her fault at all. “I know that you think you might have found me attractive back when you lost your soul, but that could still be the Powers manipulating things to try to make you want me around along with Spike.”  
  
This time he chuckled. It was a dismissive sound, as if she were a silly child. “Willow, all of that happened long before you did the spell to save Connor. They could hardly go back and change my memories.”  
  
“Oh yeah? Well what about Dawn?”  
  
“What _about_ Dawn?”  
  
Oh goddess. He didn’t know. No one had told him. Not until now. “She’s not real, Angel. Some monks made her from Buffy in order to safeguard a mystical key. She’s what Glory was after. But she’s only been alive for two years. None of your memories of her really happened.”  
  
Angel said nothing, and Willow figured maybe he needed to be alone to process what he’d just learned, but then he smiled strangely and said, “I know. I always knew.”  
  
Okay… huh?  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	25. Chapter 25

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Twenty-Five)  
  
  
  
Huh?  
  
Willow was reeling with shock. Angel knew about Dawn from the beginning? But how? Which was exactly what she asked. “How?”  
  
Angel’s expression turned serious. “Sit down.”  
  
Okay, she was so not Taking Orders Girl, but since Angel seemed to be able to get around that, she wasn’t all that surprised by her ready acquiescence. She quickly found a chair and sat.  
  
“I was human for a day.”  
  
And again – huh? Because that seemed highly non-sequitur-y to Willow, but she decided not to interrupt. Besides, even if this had nothing to do with Dawn, she had to admit she was curious. He didn’t say anything though and it occurred to her that maybe he expected her to say something, so she did. “When?” Which was a good question since she really was curious about when that had happened. And hey, why hadn’t she heard about it before now?  
  
“It was around that Thanksgiving… do you remember when I went back to Sunnydale?” How could Willow forget? Xander’s syphilis, Spike showing up… If she’d known then that the love of her life was tied to a chair in the living room of Giles’s apartment… She nodded and Angel continued. “When Buffy showed up in L.A., I was attacked by a Mohra demon. Its blood made me human. Buffy and I spent the day together… and the night.”  
  
Confusion seemed to be becoming a habit for Willow when dealing with Angel. Like now, for instance, because… “Buffy never told me about that.” She didn’t, did she? Please tell her that Oz’s betrayal and her resultant mopiness hadn’t distracted her that much as a friend.  
  
“She doesn’t remember.”  
  
Could she just have the word ‘huh’ keep replaying in an endless loop? Because that made no sense. How could Buffy forget… and wait a minute. Willow remembered that day and Buffy came right back from L.A. She didn’t spend the night with Angel. Was this more shenanigans by whoever these Powers That Be were? Before she could say anything, however, Angel stated talking again.  
  
“When I realized the dangers…” He paused, seeming to think for a moment. “I told myself and I told the Oracles that I wanted to be a demon with a soul again because I couldn’t keep Buffy safe as a human. I believed it then, or I wanted to. The truth is that I didn’t want to be weak, to be less than… I had the Oracles turn back time 24 hours to when Buffy first arrived. No one else remembers that day. It never happened. Except to me.”  
  
Oh god. Willow was very glad she was sitting because, as the import of all she heard washed over her, her heart ached for Buffy. She knew full well that when Buffy spent the night with Angel, they didn’t sit around watching videos of John Hughes movies. She’d made love with him, had something which she’d dreamt of, and it was taken away completely. Couldn’t the universe please just give Buffy a break?  
  
Then, of course, she began wondering what, if anything, this had to do with Dawn. Guess it was a good thing Angel decided to answer that question before she even had to ask it. “When Dawn appeared, I ended up with both sets of memories. With her and without her. I figured out what when the Oracles decided that I had to carry the memory of that day when no one else had it, that seems to have made me immune to what happened to the rest of you. Memories can’t be taken away from me.”  
  
Wow. Gosh. That was… Even now that they all knew the truth about Dawn, none of them remembered the way things had been without her. Willow was glad about that. She didn’t want to know what her life had been like without Dawn in it. How strange for Angel to have... But then, maybe he didn’t really care. “Gosh,” she said, because she had to say something and ‘gosh’ seemed appropriate.   
  
“That’s how I know that what I remember about you – about how I feel – is the truth.”  
  
This was so not what she wanted to hear. For a moment she thought of asking for just some small memory as proof, but no, she loved Dawn and under no circumstances did she want to endanger the reality that still existed in her mind. Besides, how would she know what Angel told her was true anyway… at least any more than she already did? Because he was. She knew that now.   
  
With that knowledge came the resurrection of something even more powerful than her fear of losing the sense of Dawn’s reality had been and the pain of it was overwhelming: Jenny Calendar’s death was her fault.  
  
It was pretty obvious Angel knew what she was thinking, because he came over to her and knelt down, putting his hand under her chin and forcing her to look into his eyes. “None of it was your fault,” he said. “None of it _is_ your fault.”  
  
“How can you say that?”  
  
“Because it’s true. The damage I caused when I didn’t have my soul? That was all my demon’s doing. None of it was because of anything you did. Yes, I probably would have killed Jenny Calendar at some point anyway, because of her connection to you. That’s the truth. But it happened that night because she was going to restore my soul. So with you or without you, she was going to die. I just let Spike think that on that night it was still mostly because of you because I wasn’t going to admit that I was terrified of some human.”  
  
Was it wrong that Willow was relieved? Even if it was, she was clinging to the reprieve Angel’s explanation offered. “Really?” she asked, her vision clouded by tears.  
  
“Yes,” he averred.   
  
It occurred to her to wonder about why, if the murder had anything to do with her, Jenny’s body had been left in Giles’s bed, but she decided not to ask. If Angel knew about her high school crush on Giles… she didn’t want to think about it.  
  
There were other questions, though, and they _did_ need to be asked. “I get that maybe you had sort of a thing for me when you didn’t have your soul, but what does that have to do with now? I mean, you have your soul now, and…” He put his finger to her lips before getting up. She had a hunch she was in for another lecture like the one she’d gotten from him last time.  
  
She wasn’t wrong. “It’s not that simple, though I don’t blame you for thinking that way. I let everyone believe that the soul and the demon… But that’s not what it’s like. The demon is part of me. Always. I’m not two different men.” He’d been pacing, but he stopped, focusing his eyes on her. “You have no idea how long it has taken me to accept that. To admit it.” He was staring intently at her and it made her uneasy.  
  
“I love Spike,” she blurted out, and he chuckled.  
  
“I know.”  
  
There was something she wanted to ask… well, not _wanted_ , but needed – definitely needed. “What about you? How do you feel about Spike?” The image of him holding the man she loved, kissing him so passionately, wouldn’t leave her mind.   
  
Angel sighed. “It’s complicated.”  
  
Willow didn’t sigh, she snorted. Because ‘it’s complicated’ was the excuse people always gave when what they really meant was that they didn’t want to tell you the answer to your question. “I know all that demon stuff you told me before, but that’s not what I’m asking.”  
  
“I know what you’re asking. You want to know if I’m going to try and take him away from you.”  
  
Ouch. That was a direct hit. Willow nodded as she softly said, “Yes.”  
  
He approached her with the panther grace she remembered from when he’d lost his soul and instinctively, she made herself smaller in the chair. Chuckling, he pulled her to her feet. “I am not going to try and take him from you – or take you from him.” Then his expression grew grave and sad. “There’s the curse, remember?”  
  
Oh yeah, that was right, huh? But there’d been Darla, and…  
  
Again, and much to her own growing unease, Angel seemed to read her thoughts. “She never made me happy. It was sex, good sex, but that’s all it ever was. Sex and blood. It was a bond, yes, just like I told you, and she was the mother of my son, but it wasn’t…” His hand was under her chin again and he stared into her eyes. “It was nothing like what I feel for Spike. Or for you.”  
  
As Willow stared into his eyes, she had the feeling like she was drowning. Never had she felt the need for her goddess’s guidance more, but she was alone now, wasn’t she? How was she going to figure this out?  
  
Before she could come up with any ideas, Angel’s lips descended. He was breaking his promise to Spike.  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	26. Chapter 26

  
Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Twenty-Six)  
  
  
  
Oh goddess. Angel was about to kiss her again. But you know what? This time, she was not going to stand there like a high school dork and just let him do whatever he wanted. So, sliding her hands up his chest in seeming acquiescence, she shocked the heck out of him by suddenly and firmly pushing him away. “This is not happening,” she said, her voice ringing with emphasis. To make her point all the more clear, she backed away, but not meekly. No, she took a strong stance and made sure her posture was straight and tall. “This is absolutely not happening,” she reaffirmed. “You promised Spike – and anyway, I have some say in this too. Did it ever occur to you that maybe I don’t find you attractive?” All right, she had to admit that was sort of a lie. Not that she’d ever, _ever_ cheat on Spike, but yes, Angel was a handsome man and he definitely knew how to kiss. He did not, however, need to know she felt that way.  
  
Of course, by the way he was smirking at her, it was obvious that the idea that she didn’t have a thing for him had never crossed his mind, arrogant jerk, so her words and her demeanour seemed to be all for naught.   
  
Just as she was about to really read him the riot act, the phone rang. Without even trying to stop smirking, Angel answered the phone… and _then_ the smirk faded away. “Buffy.”  
  
Willow could feel the blood drain from her face, then her neck, arms, torso, legs – not literally, of course, but still… oh goddess. Buffy. Once she and Angel had exchanged pleasantries… How could he, though? How could he be standing there speaking calmly to _Buffy_ after he’d just tried to kiss her?  
  
Again.  
  
But that’s what he was doing, only now there was silence and he was… handing the phone to her. Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. How was she going to talk to Buffy? “Hi!” she exclaimed, wincing at the volume and excessive chirpiness of her voice. “I was gonna call you.” Which she was. As soon as she got her guilt under control. Sometime in… oh… say… 2023?  
  
“I just saved you the trouble.” Did Buffy sound suspicious? No. She couldn’t. Because she wouldn’t _be_ suspicious. Because she trusted Willow, didn’t she? She didn’t know that Willow was a skanky, vamp-stealing ho.   
  
Then of course, she said something which made the knife in Willow’s gut twist hard to the right. “I miss you, Will. You coming home soon?” Buffy sounded almost wistful and gosh did it hurt. Thank heavens there was so much Buffy didn’t know, or Willow would never be able to go home again, ever.  
  
On the other hand, Willow was sort of grateful she had an excuse not to go right now. “I wish I could, but I’m sorta stuck here. My car broke down and they don’t even have all the parts to fix it yet.”  
  
“Ouch. That sounds expensive.”  
  
“It looks like it will be.”  
  
“Good thing your parents are gone for awhile, huh.”  
  
“Yeah.” Willow sighed. Her parents… they were always gone. Even when they were home.   
  
There was silence for a moment, which struck Willow oddly. Buffy was normally a chatterbox on the phone. Okay, she probably hadn’t figured out about Angel, but still… “Is something going on?”  
  
Oh. That was a direct hit. Buffy sighed. “It’s those three… They’re up to something and we can’t figure out what it is. Every time it seems like we’re going to stop them… It’s like they know what we think and what we’re doing before we even do it. I’m totally questioning the value of my SAT scores right now.”  
  
Now Willow felt worse than ever. Gosh. She hadn’t even thought about Andrew and Warren and Jonathan. After what they did to Buffy such a short time ago… what kind of friend was she? But maybe… something Buffy said…   
  
They were even bigger computer and electronic geeks than she was. Was it possible…? She was about to say something to Buffy and then she thought better of it. If the phones were tapped, or the rooms bugged…   
  
If she hadn’t been so overwhelmed with guilt, she’d have thought before acting, but anyway, it wasn’t like this was really a _spell_ spell. All she was doing was reaching out and reading for electronic devices in places that were home – or like home, since she included the Magic Box. Nothing that influenced people or anything. It didn’t take long before she picked up two major problems.  
  
But how could she tell her without admitting she was doing magic again? Oh darn, she hadn’t thought this through. Or maybe… “I have an idea,” she offered guilelessly. Angel was staring. Guess he could feel the magic she’d just used. She’d deal with that later. Right now she had important things to deal with. “Don’t say anything, okay? Just listen. You need to go to Radio Shack. Talk to Billy, okay? Only him. He totally hates Jonathan after that thing at the Star Trek convention when… Never mind. What’s important is that no way will he ever say anything to those creeps. Tell him I said to set you up with some detection equipment and to tell you how to use it, okay? Then sweep your front yard and the Magic Box. Those are the most likely places you’d find bugs and hidden cameras and stuff. Say ‘That’s okay, Willow, it was a longshot anyway’ if you understand me.”  
  
“That’s okay, Willow. It was a longshot anyway.”  
  
“I promise I’ll explain later. Just get over there as soon as you can.”  
  
Willow was about to hang up when she heard Buffy say, “I love you,” but before she could reply, the line went dead. Buffy was gone.  
  
Hopefully her idea worked. Oh gosh. What if Billy had another job now? Maybe he’d gotten some therapy and gone to college. Not like he’d totally missed his chance to have a life. Juvenile records were sealed, right?  
  
So lost in thought – and worry – was she, that she almost jumped out of her skin when she felt a hand on her shoulder. “What’s wrong?”  
  
“Angel! You scared me. That was Buffy.” He quirked an eyebrow at her. Oh. Duh. “But you knew that since you answered the phone. Okay.” She paused, weighing what to tell him. She wasn’t going to talk about the asylum, that was for sure. “We’ve been having trouble with… do you remember the devil dogs at the prom? That guy’s brother is one of a gang of three guys who seem to be after Buffy for some reason. Now it looks like they’ve bugged her front yard and the Magic Box.”  
  
“Why didn’t you just tell her…?” Angel paused. “Sorry. She doesn’t know you’re able to use magic again. I get it.”  
  
“If she doesn’t manage to get in touch with Billy, I’ll have to figure out…”  
  
“I’ll call her and say Cordy had a vision,” Angel offered. “I would have already if I’d known.”  
  
“Thanks.” He was moving close to her again, though. Could he ever stop being such a… demon? She put her hand up in a very emphatic ‘stay back’ gesture. “Look, I know the whole deal, okay? You think you have feelings for me, you’re a vampire and things are different for you… all that stuff. But me? I’m human and I love Spike and I am not going to do anything to hurt him.”  
  
“I don’t want to hurt him either.” The way he said the word ‘hurt’… no, she was not going there. Being bisexual was about as kinky as she got. That joke about playing Mistress of Pain with Oz was just that – a joke.  
  
There was a long pause and then Angel sighed heavily before reminding her of something for the second time tonight. “Isn’t this discussion a little academic, anyway? There’s still my curse. No matter what I want…”   
  
His gaze almost burned into her, which is why she found herself apologizing. “I’ve tried, you know. I’ve never found a way.” She didn’t say that she’d wanted every year to give his unencumbered soul as a birthday gift to Buffy.   
  
“Thanks,” he said, but his tone was inscrutable and she wasn’t sure if he was sincere.  
  
Everything was starting to crash in on her – all the things he’d said, her guilt, the chaos of her present life. There was only one thing she wanted right now, one thing that would make her world make sense. “I’m going to Spike,” she said.  
  
“Are you going to tell him…?”  
  
There had been a time when her answer would have been different, but today? “Yes. I don’t keep secrets from him.” He nodded, not that it mattered, and she left, heading upstairs to look for her guy.  
  
Could tomorrow please just be a quiet, peaceful day?  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	27. Chapter 27

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Twenty-Seven)  
  
  
  
Spike was upstairs in their room, just where Willow had expected to find him.   
  
“How’d your talk with the Gelled Wonder go then?” And from Spike that was hello.  
  
“Fine,” she began automatically before shaking her head. “No, not so much with the fine as with the weird and unsettling, I guess.” Pausing, she thought about what to say first. “He knows about Dawn. Turns out he _always_ knew about Dawn. Even before we did.”  
  
Spike was clearly taken aback, a reaction it was easy to understand, so before he could say anything, Willow launched into an explanation. “There’s kind of a story behind that. You remember that Thanksgiving? Back when you were first chipped?” Spike nodded, but he was clearly confused – kinda like Willow had been when Angel was the narrator of the tale. She continued. “Buffy came to L.A. to chew Angel out for being in Sunnydale and… something happened and he became human.”  
  
“What?” Spike stood up and stared. “How the hell…?”  
  
“Some demon’s blood,” Willow said, “and then he and Buffy spent a whole day together… being human.”  
  
“I’m guessing that translates into shagging like rabbits.” Spike snorted and rolled his eyes.  
  
“Probably,” Willow agreed.  
  
“So what happened? How come my sire didn’t get to stay a real boy?”  
  
“It… Buffy was in danger and he couldn’t help her, so he went to these Oracles, they’re messengers of the Powers That Be or something, and he asked them to turn back time, make it so he never became human, that way he could keep Buffy safe. They did it, but there was a catch – he remembered everything, but nobody else did, not even Buffy. Which somehow means that he’s immune to memory spells and stuff now. Oh, he has all the memories we do of Dawn, it’s just that he also has the other ones, the ones…” Her voice trailed off. She still hated even thinking about a world where the girl who was, in spite of all their recent issues, almost as much her sister as Buffy’s never existed.  
  
“That must be a bit of a mindfuck,” Spike offered. But he looked as disconcerted as she felt; that wasn’t surprising since Dawn was even closer to him than she was to Willow.   
  
“I wouldn’t want those memories either,” she said, taking Spike’s hand.  
  
“World’s better with her in it.”  
  
“It sure is.”  
  
They stayed silent for a moment and she knew that Spike, like her, was recalling favorite memories of Dawn, clinging to them tightly. She had more to tell him, though, so she abandoned her reminiscences and started talking. “Angel says that’s how he knows that his memories – his feelings – are real.” She paused and Spike’s grip on her hand grew tight. “He told me he would have killed Jenny no matter what, though, ‘cause she was trying to restore his soul. He said it wasn’t my fault.”  
  
Spike pulled her into his arms. “’Course it wasn’t, love. But I’m glad he said it.”  
  
Oh god. He really wasn’t going to like what else she had to say. “He tried to kiss me again.” She held tight to him even as she could feel his face shift momentarily against her cheek. “He didn’t, though, okay?”  
  
“Bastard.” Spike spat the word out, but he didn’t let go of her. “Knew he wouldn’t keep his promise.”  
  
“I told him no.” Then she added, “He said he has feelings for you too.”  
  
“Yeah, know all about the ‘feelings’ he has for me.” There was a world of pain in those words and she ached for her love.   
  
As much as a part of her was admittedly jealous of the fact that Angel still meant so much to him, she loved him too much not to give him reassurance – to give him the truth. She pulled back, staring into his face. “No, he does. He said so. He said it was totally different from what he had with Darla, that he feels a lot more for you.” Paraphrasing, but that was basically what he said.   
  
Spike seemed eager to change the subject. “What else did you two talk about?”  
  
“Not much. Buffy called.”  
  
“What’d she have to say?” The question was casual, but Spike sounded concerned.  
  
“She’s having problems with…”  
  
“Warren and Andrew and Jonathan?”  
  
“Yeah. She says they seem to know everything she tries to do to stop them ahead of time. I… I kind of did a spell to see what was up with that and they’ve got a camera right outside the house and in the Magic Box.”  
  
“Did ya tell her?” Then Spike shook his head and said, “Nah, guess ya couldn’t. What are we gonna do?”  
  
“I told her to go see my friend Billy at Radio Shack, get some detection equipment, told her to reply that she forgave me for not having any answers. The phone wasn’t tapped so she’d be the only one they could hear, if the mic’s that powerful.”  
  
Spike smiled at her. “Not bad, love. Hope your boy can come through, though.”  
  
“If that doesn’t work, Angel’s gonna call her and say that Cordy had a vision.”  
  
The smile faded, but Spike nodded. “Yeah, that’s a good idea.” She might love him more than ever for being able to keep his eye on the big picture in spite of all the complicated feelings he was having.  
  
He needed to hear how she felt. “I love you.”  
  
“Love you too,” he said softly, his eyes shining with emotion. Looking into them, she thought her heart was going to burst.  
  
Then his lips met hers and for that moment, it seemed like everything was okay. It wasn’t, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t pretend, at least for a little while.  
  
The kiss grew hungrier and Willow was sure glad she’d closed the door behind her because this was going somewhere that didn’t need an audience. Spike’s hands were roaming over her body and her own were moving to the buttons on his jeans and…  
  
Wow. They were naked. That was quick. Or maybe it just felt that way because she hadn’t actually been paying attention during the disrobing process. He was still just as gorgeous to her as the first time she’d ever seen him like this.  
  
And he still looked at her as if she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. It was overwhelming and she would have cried if she didn’t want him so much. Lust had a way of pushing everything else aside.  
  
She reached down, stroking him. “Cor, love. You’re gonna kill me.”  
  
“You’re already dead.”  
  
“Good thing that.”  
  
She chuckled throatily and gave him an impish grin as she suddenly shoved him, causing him to fall back onto the bed. He got with the program and slid up as she moved to sit astride him, then, positioning him at her entrance, she took him inside, slowly sliding down his length.  
  
It felt amazing. He was a piece of her that belonged there. She closed her eyes, head thrown back, glorying in the sensation as she began to move, his thrusts meeting hers, finding each other’s rhythm. Harder and faster, the pleasure becoming all-consuming… and then she saw…  
  
She saw Angel. Here. In their bed. Naked. Kissing Spike. Touching Spike. Making love to Spike.  
  
It was anguishing.  
  
Her body was too far gone, however, and a few seconds later, she came – almost violently – as she felt Spike’s release inside her. Opening her eyes, she looked down at her love. He’d seen the same thing, she knew. With that, she burst into tears.  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	28. Chapter 28

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Twenty-Eight)  
  
  
  
What was happening?   
  
Climbing off of Spike, and feeling the loss of him within her as some sort of literal metaphor, Willow wanted to run for the bathroom, but Spike grabbed her, forcing her to stay beside him on the bed. “What are you running from? Or do I need to ask? Was he who you were thinking of?” he growled.  
  
Willow was stunned. Oh god. He hadn’t seen the same thing she had – or he had but Angel’s costar had been her, not him. “No!” She turned the tables. “What about you? Were you wishing he was here instead of me?”  
  
He seemed as stunned as she had been. “What the…” His grip on her arm loosened and the gold in his eyes disappeared. “You saw me and him, didn’t ya?” She nodded. “’S not what I saw.”  
  
“I kinda figured that out just now.”  
  
Spike sighed and sat back against the headboard, Willow joined him, nestling in his arms. “The work of those bloody Powers, most like.” He was angry, but no longer at her, and Willow was grateful for that.  
  
“Yeah,” she agreed, but her heart wasn’t in it. She’d seen Spike in Angel’s arms and she knew that theirs was a bond of long standing, one forged a century or more ago. The Powers That Be didn’t create it, and they didn’t create the hunger she knew Spike still felt for his sire’s approval… and love.  
  
It was different for her. Sure, Angel could kiss, she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t liked it, that it hadn’t even turned her on a little bit, but Spike was the center of her world and if she never saw Angel again, she’d survive just fine.  
  
“You want him,” she said suddenly, shocked that the words had slipped out. She hadn’t meant to say them out loud. Looking up into his face… yeah, whatever he said in reply, the truth was that she was right.  
  
He said nothing. Maybe that was good; at least he wasn’t lying to her. But a tear slipped out of the corner of one eye anyway. As much as she couldn’t regret saving a baby from a life in Hell, she couldn’t help but wish she’d been able to do it some other way, some other way that didn’t involve being here.  
  
“I love you,” he said at last, his voice choked with emotion. She believed him, it was just… A moment later, she was underneath him, his mouth crashing against hers, and he was inside her again, needy and desperate.  
  
So was she.  
  
Her hands clawed at his back. “Spike,” she cried as he thrust hard and fast into her.   
  
It didn’t take long for either of them to find release – and this time, he was the only one she saw. She could only hope the same was true for him as she fell into fitful slumber by his side when they were both spent.  
  
  
  
Her body ached when she awoke from troubled dreams she couldn’t quite remember. Was Spike asleep or was he just lying there with his eyes closed? She didn’t know, but she edged off the bed cautiously so as not to disturb him if he was sleeping. Tiptoeing to the dresser, she got out some underwear, a t-shirt, and some jeans and headed into the bathroom. A shower would be nice, but she didn’t want to make the noise, so she wet a washcloth and sponged herself down as best she could before getting dressed. When she emerged, Spike was still on the bed, eyes closed, in the same position he’d been when she got up.  
  
Hungry, she decided to go down to the kitchen and see if there was anything to eat. Hopefully, she’d be all alone down there.  
  
At first, it looked like luck was on her side as she flipped on the light switch and made for the fridge, especially when she saw that there was still some of the lox Cordelia had bought for her as well as a bagel and some cream cheese. Thank heavens no one else shared her taste in food. But then, as she was rooting around in hopes of finding an onion, she heard someone enter the room. Please let it be Cordelia. Or Fred. Or even Lorne.  
  
“Hey.” It was Angel. Goody. Just exactly who she wanted to see.   
  
Standing up straight and whirling around, she fixed Angel with a baleful glare that put her Resolve Face to shame. “What do you want?”  
  
He didn’t appear even slightly cowed. “To talk.”  
  
“Well I don’t want to, so why don’t you just leave me alone so I can eat in peace and then…”  
  
“Go back upstairs for another round with Spike? Don’t even deny what you were doing because I could _hear_ you. Even now, I can smell him all over you.”  
  
Somehow willing herself not to blush, she kept her eyes firmly locked on Angel’s. “Why would I deny it? I love him. He loves me. People in love make love.”  
  
Angel smirked briefly and Willow flashed back to that night years ago in the hall of Sunnydale High. He’d never been more honest than when he told her that the demon and the man weren’t separate creatures. “You keep saying that you love him.”  
  
“Because it’s the truth.” Please say he didn’t think she was protesting too much. Oh goddess. He did, didn’t he? Arrogant jerk. What the hell did Buffy see in him?  
  
What did _Spike_ see in him?  
  
He was so mercurial, switching from soulful and understanding to demonic and manipulative seemingly at random; you could never tell what side of him you’d be dealing with from one minute to the next. How could you love someone like that? At least Spike made sense.  
  
Let’s see if she could turn the tables on him a bit, be unexpected herself. “Look, I get that you don’t have too many outlets, what with not being able to have sex and all.” That seemed to set him back and she kept going. “I wouldn’t be too happy either. But that doesn’t mean it’s okay to play games with other people’s lives. Try masturbation” – oh how hard it was to be so blunt without turning scarlet – “or something. Anything. Just leave us alone, okay? Because Spike deserves better than you messing with his head.”  
  
Okay, she might have bitten off more than she could chew because Angel’s eyes were gold and he looked absolutely furious. “You think this is me looking for some diversion?”  
  
Without realizing what she was doing at first, she began to back up. There was no ‘might have’ about it. She had definitely strayed from the path and was now deep in a forest where she couldn’t find her way. “Ummm… I’m sorry?” she choked out, her voice tight with fear. This wasn’t Angelus, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t dangerous, and somehow she didn’t think trotting out the scorecard of favours she’d done for him would be much help right now.   
  
She couldn’t remember him ever being like this in Sunnydale. Was this who he was now? Or had he changed? Had the spell… and was this really the right time to get lost in analytical thought? Because he was suddenly very close to her and…  
  
Before she could stop him, she was in his arms, being kissed with a fierce intensity that left her shocked, terrified…  
  
And very aroused.   
  
Oh god. This felt different from before. Very different  
  
She was betraying Spike.  
  
  
  
To be continued...


	29. Chapter 29

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Twenty-Nine)  
  
  
Willow heard herself moan into Angel’s mouth as she allowed him to mold her body to his. She was evil and this was proof. Why wasn’t she zapping him with…? Okay, that would be misusing her magic, but… Goddess, she wasn’t fighting him off at all. Far from it.  
  
What was happening to her?  
  
She might not be the only one thinking that way because a moment later Angel stopped kissing her and pushed himself away. “I’m sorry.”  
  
It took her a moment to register the words as she was caught in whirlwind of guilt and self-hatred. This was one of the worst things she’d ever done, at least it felt that way. Because this time she’d really enjoyed it, participated even. She’d betrayed the one person in the whole world… “I’m the one who’s sorry. I just…” Right then she burst into tears. “I love Spike! Why did I…?”  
  
Now she was in Angel’s arms again, but this time the embrace was comforting, not passionate. “It’s not your fault. I’m the one who…” He paused. “I love him, too, you know. Maybe not the way you do, but… You’re not ready for this.” She had no idea what he meant by that, but it didn’t really matter, because it _was_ her fault.  
  
She said as much. “I wasn’t exactly stopping you.” Her tears kept flowing as she said, “How could I do this to him?”  
  
They disentangled and Angel rubbed his thumbs under her eyes, trying to dry her still-falling tears. “You’re family. _We’re_ family.” He said that as if it meant something, as if it explained everything. But it was all just words to Willow; she _wasn’t_ family.   
  
Anyway, what on Earth did that have to do with betraying Spike?  
  
“We need to have a talk,” Angel continued. “All of us.” This was clearly not up for discussion and so, without having a chance to say a word, Willow found herself being dragged out of the kitchen and back upstairs to the room where she’d just made love to Spike. Goddess, how could she face him right now? Considering how blotchy she must be after all her crying, he’d know she was upset and he’d want to know why and…  
  
Angel didn’t even knock, just bursting through the door with Willow in tow. Spike was sitting on the bed, but he leapt to his feet in response to the sudden intrusion. She’d been right; he immediately noticed the state she was in. “What the hell have you done to her now?”  
  
What should she say? What _could_ she say? Those might well be two different things, because what she _should_ say was that she was a no-good trollop and none of this was Angel’s fault. But as for _could_? Well… she was having a hard time getting her lips to even part, let alone form words.  
  
It seemed, however, that Angel had no such trouble. “Sit down, William.”   
  
As much as Spike had never been one to follow orders from anyone before, this time, as was his odd wont lately, he did as he was told and sat back down. He turned to her, letting go of her arm, and she got the message and sat down beside Spike.  
  
Okay, was she actually starting to feel the ‘family’ thing or was it just the whole physical dynamic that made her feel like they were about to get a lecture from a stern father?  
  
Now she felt nauseous because she’d just had her tongue down the throat of the man in the paternal role.  
  
“We need to talk about what’s been going on between the three of us.”  
  
Spike’s jaw was clenched and he reached over to her, taking her hand. She let him, feeling like a hypocrite. “You mean the way you’ve been trying to get between me and Willow?”   
  
“That’s not…” Angel paused and then said, “I know that’s what it seems like. I don’t blame you for being angry – either one of you.” His words seemed to have a powerful effect on Spike, who perceptibly relaxed. Willow, however, was still torn up inside, and wondering what Angel would say next.  
  
She didn’t have to wait long. “The spell… It didn’t create these feelings, but acting on them… ever since… My demon’s been… closer to the surface? I don’t know. It’s hard to explain.”   
  
Willow wasn’t the only one wondering exactly what he meant; she glanced beside her at Spike and she could see the wheels turning behind his eyes. She looked away quickly, not wanting to give him the chance to search _hers_. Goddess, she’d kissed Angel… and she’d _liked_ it, felt desire. How could she?  
  
Spike spoke up and it was clear he was suspicious. “Blaming the demon, I see.”  
  
Angel sighed, clearly frustrated. “That’s not what I’m saying, Spike.”  
  
Now Spike let go of her hand and got to his feet. “Well what the hell are you saying then? Because I know you kissed her again. I can smell you all over her!” He could? Oh no. Could he smell…? She didn’t want to think about that. “She’s mine, you bastard, and I…” Spike clearly had more to say, but he couldn’t say it right now…  
  
Because Angel was kissing him.   
  
Hypocrite, thy name was Willow, because despite what she had just done, she had to admit that watching Angel kissing the man she loved was making her very jealous. The only good thing was that she realized with profound relief that she was jealous that Spike was kissing someone who wasn’t her, not that _Angel_ was kissing someone who wasn’t her. It didn’t make what she was witnessing less painful, though… Spike was responding every bit as ardently as Willow had so very recently.  
  
Maybe even more.  
  
Unlike her, however, Spike pushed Angel away. “Keep your bloody hands off the both of us!”  
  
Looking at the unsettling smirk on Angel’s face as he stood, unmoved by Spike’s display, had Willow wondering about his demon as well, because in stark contrast to his uncertain and apologetic manner of a moment ago, Angel now seemed proud and scornful and not a little bit amused. “That’s not what your body’s saying, William.” With that, he glanced pointedly at Spike’s crotch. Willow didn’t need to look; she knew what she’d see if she did.  
  
What kind of game was Angel playing, anyway? This back and forth routine of his was wearing her thin.  
  
Which one, she wondered, was really Angel: the demon or the soul? For the first time, she wondered something else… Who had he been when he was human?  
  
Those questions needed to wait because it looked from the stance being assumed by both parties that Spike and Angel were about to go to war and she wasn’t going to allow it. “Just stop it!” she cried, getting in between the two men and glaring at Angel. “All of this posturing isn’t helping anything.”  
  
Going to Spike, she kissed his cheek. “I love you. And I understand… or I _think_ I understand this bond you have with Angel. So it’s okay that when you guys…,” she paused, glad she was at least past the stage of her life where she constantly blushed, but she still couldn’t be blunt, so she just let her silence fill the space where her words had trailed off.  
  
He pulled her to him. “You’re mine,” he whispered fiercely. “You hear me? And I’m yours.”  
  
Angel was staring at them, the smirk gone and his expression oddly wistful… until it wasn’t. This time it transformed into something stern and determined. “C’mon you two. If the Powers don’t want to give us any information, I know someone who has to.”   
  
“Who?”  
  
Heading for the door, he turned back, his stare an order to follow. “We’re going to do what we should have done before. We’re going to see Lorne.”  
  
  
To be continued…


	30. Chapter 30

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Thirty)  
  
  
  
  
Finding Lorne wasn’t that hard. He was in Angel’s room with the baby… almost as if he’d been waiting for them, though he was shocked enough when the three of them trooped in that it was pretty clear he _hadn’t_ been. “Angel food… and friends. What’s with the serious faces?” Guess they all looked like they were here with a purpose.  
  
Angel cut right to the chase. “We need a reading. Now.”  
  
Lorne blanched - well, as much as a green demon could actually blanch – but he nodded… staring at Willow the whole while. Okay, when did she steal his lunch money? Because he seemed to seriously dislike her and had practically since she’d shown up here, even with her saving Connor and everything.  
  
Now probably wasn’t the time to raise the subject however, so she just pretended that he was her friend and smiled blandly at him.  
  
It took him a moment to answer, but he went and laid the baby back in his crib and then said, “We’d better take this to another room. No offense, Angelcakes, but your singing…” He rolled his eyes melodramatically and Willow couldn’t help it – she giggled.  
  
Just then, Fred bounced in, her cheerful smile a reminder of the mood Willow wished she was in right now. “Gunn and I are goin’ out for tacos and I thought maybe we could take Connor.” She seemed to notice Angel’s mood, but misunderstood it. “He needs the air.”  
  
At last, Angel spoke. “Yeah. You can take him with you. Just…”  
  
“We’ll keep an eye out for anybody from Wolfram & Hart,” she interjected, and Angel seemed mollified – his expression relaxed slightly, anyway.   
  
Fred hurried over to the crib, extracting Connor and then bundling him up. “We’ll be back soon,” she caroled brightly as she went out the door, taking Connor with her.  
  
“Well, you can do your psychic mojo here after all,” Spike said after a moment. Fred must have made it down the stairs and out of earshot.   
  
Lorne, though, still seemed reluctant, and… you know what? Willow had a feeling she knew why and she was sick of it. “Can you guys go feed or something? Because Lorne and I need to talk.” She brought her Resolve Face out for good measure and – what do you know? – it did the trick, even with Angel. She needed to remember that.  
  
Spike kissed her softly before following Angel out of the room, but he said nothing, trusting her. She loved him so much.   
  
Once the sound of their footsteps faded away, she turned to Lorne. “Look. You don’t like me. I get that. You haven’t liked me since the day I arrived. Normally, I’d just accept it, but now? Now it’s really starting to get in the way, so we need to clear the air once and for all. What did I ever do to you, huh? Because I don’t remember even having a real conversation with you before.”  
  
Okay, she hadn’t exactly expected a sudden outpouring, but Lorne wasn’t saying anything and she was about to burst into tears of despair, when he finally spoke. Well, first he sighed, then he spoke. “It’s Cordelia.”  
  
Now she was more confused than ever. Lorne had clearly not gotten the memo. “She and I are totally okay now.”  
  
“It’s not that.” Great. Was this a game of Twenty Questions?  
  
Just then, however, her brain kicked into gear. Flashes of looks Cordelia had given Angel here, reactions to things Willow or Angel or Spike said there, and… but she hadn’t been that way lately. Still… “You wanted Cordelia and Angel to be together.” Judging by the expression she saw on Lorne’s face, Willow figured she’d hit the bullseye.   
  
At least now she knew what the problem was, though why Lorne was so invested in other people’s love lives had her stumped, but she walked over to him and placed a conciliatory hand on his arm. “I didn’t know. And anyway, I didn’t… I’m not…” Oh goddess, what was she even trying to say? But just then something else struck her and she said, “You know about the curse, right? It’s not like he can have an actual… ummm… _physical_ relationship with anyone. Cordy’s way better off with Groo, who, by the way, I think she really cares about. He sure seems to think the world of _her_.”  
  
Lorne mumbled something that sounded to Willow’s confused ears like ‘kyrumption’ – whatever _that_ meant in English – but he seemed a little less annoyed with her, which she was adding to the ‘win’ column.  
  
She decided to throw some frankness into the mix. “I know that a lot of things have changed since I got here, but I didn’t mean to make any of that happen. All I came to do was save Connor. I thought we’d be going right home the next day. Honest. But… I don’t know what’s going on. Angel says it has something to do with these Powers That Be.” Then she pleaded, “We need your help, okay? We need to know what’s happening.”  
  
Lorne’s face underwent several changes of expression right before her eyes, but finally, he sighed, smiled ruefully, and said, “All right, pumpkin. And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”   
  
Willow couldn’t help herself – she hugged him. Good thing he seemed pleased and hugged her back. “I’ll go get them.”   
  
To her surprise, he shook his head. “No need,” he added an airy wave to the gesture of his head, “they’re right outside.”  
  
Her mouth dropped open. They’d faked her out! Bast… jerks!   
  
Right on cue, they reentered the room, Spike at least having the decency to look a bit shamefaced. “Well, I guess I don’t have to explain anything, do I?”  
  
“No,” Angel replied without the slightest bit of guilt evident in his voice or manner.   
  
Lorne was scrutinizing him, though, and Willow wondered what he was looking for. “Should we sing now?” she asked.  
  
He paused, seeming to think. “Sing for me separately,” he instructed.  
  
No, she wasn’t at all shocked when Spike immediately began to belt out ‘My Way’… and _not_ in the style of Frank Sinatra. He was Sid Vicious all the way – not bad at it either.   
  
When he was done, Lorne merely nodded. Willow couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but then he gestured at her so, knowing that she was going to be quite a letdown after Spike, she did her level best as she hoped she didn't mangle ‘Scarborough Fair’. Of course, given the fact that her voice broke every time she hit a high note, that was a vain hope, and she wasn’t surprised or offended to see Lorne wince more than once.  
  
But given what came next, she’d been Joni Mitchell, because when Angel began singing… Oh goddess! He was singing ‘Can’t Smile Without You.’  
  
Angel was a _Barry Manilow_ fan?  
  
That was almost as horrible as what he was doing to the song and Willow almost forgot the point of this exercise as she fought the urge to either cover her ears or run from the room. Based on Spike’s reaction, he felt the same way. She also knew that Angel was never going to live this down; not if Spike had anything to do with it.  
  
He finished, thank heavens, and then things got serious as they all stared at Lorne, waiting for insight, guidance… something.  
  
Lorne’s eyes were wide but then he looked at Willow and they became sad. “You’re going to be making some big sacrifices, cupcake.” Then, including Spike and Angel in his pronouncements, he said, “And the three of you? Like or it not, you’re stuck together. It’s the only way to restore the balance between good and evil.”  
  
Huh?  
  
They were all about to ask for clarification when Cordelia suddenly burst into the room, clearly surprised that all of them were in there. “Okay, well this saves time.” She seemed so agitated and Willow wondered why. A second later, she – and everyone else – found out. “You’ll never believe who had the nerve to walk in the door.”  
  
Angel’s expression grew tight and angry as he spat out, “Wesley.”  
  
Oh goody.   
  
This was so not going to be pleasant.  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	31. Chapter 31

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Thirty-One)  
  
  
  
If looks could kill, the ones bestowed on Wesley would have left him deader than Spike and Angel, but they couldn’t, so here he still stood – in the lobby of the Hyperion surrounded by people who had no idea what he was doing here or what to say to him.  
  
Except for Cordelia, of course. “You have so much nerve coming here! I can’t believe you! After what you did to Connor?” She was working herself up into a classic Cordelia tirade and Willow didn’t feel the least bit guilty for looking forward to it.  
  
But then Groo put his hand on Cordy’s arm which seemed to calm her down a bit. Darn.  
  
Of course then he said something that caused everything to get stirred up all over again. “There is no need to be so angry at this time, is there? After all, young Connor is safe and well.”  
  
Goody. Thanks for letting the cat out of the bag there, Groo. Angel’s mouth set in a tight line and Spike rolled his eyes, but it was Wesley whose reaction proved the real spectator sport. His eyes grew wide and Willow could see the whirl of emotions behind them. “Connor is… but how… Why wasn’t I told?”  
  
Cordelia was so very right about this guy having nerve because he had _no_ right to be angry. Just as she was trying to think of a sharp retort, Angel shot back, “Because I’m his father and I decide who knows what about Connor. And, gee, call me crazy, but somehow I didn’t think the man who sent my son to a Hell dimension needed to know anything more about him.”  
  
Wesley may have been deflated a bit, though he didn’t cringe or shrink in his manner of old, but he still attempted a defense. “I thought… You have to understand that based on the information I had… I firmly believed I was saving him.”  
  
“From what? From his father and all the people who love him? Because yeah, it’s really gonna suck for Connor to be cared for and doted on and spoiled within an inch of his life,” Willow shot back. Not that she had issues about her own childhood and her parents who, for all she knew, still thought she was in high school. But she shot a death glare at Wesley anyway.  
  
“There, there now, love,” Spike mock-chided her – and she would have been angry had she not immediately sensed the sarcasm, “Can’t blame the man. Why anyone with experience in Sunnydale would go off half-cocked and believe some phony prophecy without checking it out or giving it so much as a moment’s thought.”  
  
Cordelia snorted and Angel managed a grim half-smile. Poor Groo just seemed confused. Willow realized that sarcasm was new to him, at least Earth-type sarcasm, and she vowed to take some time to get to know him and try to get everyone else to spend more time helping him get the hang of things here. She knew what it was like to feel lost and socially inept, after all, and she felt a sort of kinship with him.  
  
Wesley, on the other hand, was on his own.   
  
He seemed aware of that. Turning to Angel, he asked, “How did you…?”  
  
Cutting him off, Angel nodded at her. “It was Willow. She reversed the dimensional portal and brought him back.” That was a bit of an oversimplification, but it was close enough that Willow didn’t see any need to correct him.  
  
Again Wesley’s eyes widened, but his tone was even and almost respectful when he said, “I had no idea you’d grown so powerful.”  
  
Willow shrugged. She was so not giving him her complete magical history. Spike put his arm around her and pulled her close. “That’s my girl. Not much she can’t do.” She looked at him and smiled. She loved him so much.  
  
It was so obvious that Wesley was struggling to catch up with all the changes which had taken place in the town which he’d left to no great fanfare years ago. “I’m… glad you were able to save Connor.”  
  
“Yeah, well that makes it unanimous then,” Spike quipped.   
  
Lorne was hanging back, Willow noticed, his eyes on everyone and everything. He was cannier than she’d thought. Weirdly, he made her think of Xander – the guy everyone thought of as wackily-dressed comic relief… but the guy who had so much more to contribute than anyone gave him credit for. She felt a pang at those thoughts; she really missed her best friend. How were he and Anya coping with married life?  
  
Oh shoot. Wesley had just asked her something, hadn’t he? She looked at Spike again and he earned even more of her undying love by taking the question himself. “No, the Slayer’s not involved in this. Doesn’t need to be. And just to make everything clear enough for even you to understand – I may be chipped, but I’m also not saddled with some poofy soul, so if anyone – anyone – thinks it’s their business to stick their poncy British nose in where it doesn’t belong and go spilling their guts to all and sundry, I’ll see it gets lopped off… slowly and painfully. And not just their nose.”  
  
Wesley remained a cipher while Cordelia looked impressed. It was Angel’s smile that really brought home that her guy was deadly serious… and everyone knew it.  
  
“I have no intention of informing Buffy,” Wesley explained, still in that even tone Willow didn’t recognize. “I merely wondered…” His voice trailed off and then he took a breath and turned to Angel. “I realize that my words hardly matter now, but I truly regret my part in… well, everything. I hope someday you can forgive me.” Then, much to Willow’s surprise, he addressed her again. “I can’t begin to tell you how relieved I am that you were able to rectify the horrendous mistake I made. Thank you again… for saving Connor.”   
  
Before she could respond, however, Wesley turned and made his exit out the door and into the smoggy anonymity of the Los Angeles streets.   
  
How weird was it that, for all that she had possibly the fewest fond recollections of Wesley of anyone here, she felt almost… the truth was that she didn’t know how she felt. Forgiveness wasn’t there, but she could admit that his remorse seemed sincere and the dignity with which he’d comported himself told her she really didn’t know him anymore.  
  
Whether to accept his olive branch wasn’t up to her, though. This was Angel’s call and she wasn’t going to say anything. Someone else, however, seemed to feel differently. “He thought he was doing the right thing.” For once, Lorne’s words to Angel weren’t accompanied by some sort of quaint nickname, so it was clear he was uncommonly serious.  
  
Angel was having none of it. “His good intentions can take him straight to Hell for all I care. And he can give them my regards when he gets there.”  
  
“I’m with Angel,” Cordelia added. Groo merely nodded as he gave Cordelia the kind of look she herself gave Spike. Oh how she hoped Cordelia loved him back, because he really did love her and he could give her the kind of pure, uncomplicated affection that she needed, whether she realized it or not.   
  
“Don’t give a rat’s arse about that tosser, so he can say away forever far as I’m concerned,” Spike offered, agreeing with Cordelia… and with Angel. It brought home to her that Spike would always be bound to his sire even if he didn’t want to admit it.   
  
Willow nodded. She’d meant it when she decided that this was Angel’s choice to make. No matter what complicated emotions she felt where he was concerned, on the subject of Connor… She wasn’t going to go against Angel’s feelings when it came to the man who’d nearly cost him his son forever.  
  
Now that that was settled…  
  
Turning to Lorne, she said, “We kind of got interrupted earlier. Can we go finish talking about…” she eyed the outsiders in the lobby and finished lamely, “that thing we were discussing?”  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	32. Chapter 32

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Thirty-Two)  
  
  
As soon as the four of them were alone, Lorne seemed poised to continue. Which was a good thing, because Willow had actually begun to wonder if she really wanted to know. After all, Lorne had said something about ‘sacrifices’ and that didn’t sound good, not at all.  
  
He was hesitating, however, and that only seemed to confirm Willow’s worst fears. But then he finally said, “The three of you… The world’s been in dire peril ever since Witchiepoo here started playing with the balance between good and evil by bringing the Slayer back from the dead. Luckily you brought Connor back from Quor’toth and Holtz took a breath in this world again, so that shifted the balance enough that… It’s all very complicated mumbo jumbo and the Powers didn’t see fit to let me in on the whole thing anyway, but the upshot is that you three are all that’s holding back the First Evil.”  
  
Oh god…Buffy… Connor… had she really…? What was she supposed to say now? “Umm… oops?” Boy was that lame, but it was honestly all that she could think of by way of a response. Her head was spinning with all the implications of what she’d just learned.  
  
Had bringing back Buffy really endangered the whole world? Why was what she did different from when Xander brought Buffy back to life?  
  
It seemed like every time she turned around, her magic was creating badness. Looked like she’d only ever done two good things, and they were both about Angel – restoring his soul and saving his son. How weird was that?   
  
Spike seemed to get it, and he was obviously overwhelmed by the weight of the burden placed on them. He sat down on Angel’s bed. A second later, however, the snark was back. “Not sure saving the world is worth being stuck with my sire. Gotta be a loophole somewhere, doesn’t there?”  
  
“It’s not a party being stuck with you either,” Angel shot back.  
  
“Notice ya aren’t raising any objections to being saddled with _my_ girl.”  
  
“That would be because I don’t have any.”  
  
There was that smirk again. All this was bad enough when they were alone, but Lorne was here and Willow _really_ did not want this all hashed out in front of him, even if he’d probably already seen it when he’d done their reading. “Guys? Can you try and act like grown-ups, please?” She gave a soft look to Spike to let him know it wasn’t really him she was chiding.  
  
Lorne raised a hand and turned away slightly. “Obviously there are some issues you kiddies need to talk about amongst yourselves. I’ll just be… somewhere else.” For a moment, he looked at her and hesitated and Willow thought he might have more to say, but he merely shook his head ruefully and left the room. Once he was gone, Angel and Spike faced off like tigers in a pit.   
  
Willow stood between them. “I meant what I said, okay? Because this?” She gestured at the both of them. “The bickering and the posturing? It needs to stop. You guys don’t seem to get how serious this is. We’re stuck with each other. Stuck. And that means we have to figure out how to get along.”  
  
Spike sat back down and Angel sighed. “She’s right, Spike.”  
  
He was about to make some smart remark in return, but Willow glared at him – in earnest this time. She loved him, but now was not the time for his sarcasm. With a sigh of her own, she sat beside him. “It’s all my fault,” she said softly. “I’m so sorry.”  
  
A snort was his first response, and then, “Not buying it, love.” He put his hand under her chin. “Can’t believe that allowing Sunnydale to be overrun by demons and hell knows what else was somehow better for the balance of good and evil than bringin’ back the one girl who could set it right. I’m thinkin’ someone higher up the food chain than you bollixed things up and you’re getting used as a scapegoat, that’s all.”   
  
Willow shook her head and was about to contradict him – After all, she’d done some terrible things with her magic. Was it so hard to believe this was one of them? – when Angel spoke. “I think he’s right.” But then he added, “Unfortunately, I don’t think it matters. Either way, we’re being used to fix the damage and we have no choice.”  
  
There was no arguing with that, was there? She laid her head on Spike’s shoulder and sighed again. “Yeah, I guess the finger-pointing is sort of… pointless.” His earlier words sounded in her head and melded with the echo of Buffy telling her she wasn’t sorry Willow had pulled her out of Heaven. If the two most wronged by what she’d done were absolving her… maybe the finger-pointing really _was_ pointless – even when the finger was pointed at herself.  
  
As much she had always been the kind of girl who needed to understand things, she realized maybe now she needed to be more pragmatic, accept that Angel was right and that theirs was not to reason why, just to do and… not die. Well, at least two of them.  
  
Oh goddess. What were the Powers thinking? Because she was so _not_ an immortal super being and sooner or later – probably sooner – she was going to get killed by a demon or hit by a bus or catch pneumonia or… What would happen to the world when she died?  
  
Then Spike asked a question Willow realized should have occurred to _her_ : “Why the bloody hell does it make a difference, the three of us living under the same roof? Should think that if that Connor and Holtz business helped restore the balance that we could all go on our merry way.”  
  
You know? That did make sense. The difference being that Willow had learned that, when magic or the balance of the universe were involved, sense wasn’t quite what you usually thought it was. Come to think of it, The Watchers Council wasn’t all that logical either. Faith was older than Buffy and she’d never been given that stupid Cruciamentum, so why did Buffy have to get…  
  
Focus, Willow.   
  
The only problem was that focusing didn’t help. So she shrugged and said, “I don’t know why, Spike, but I don’t really want to risk what might happen if we test this.”  
  
Angel nodded his assent and Spike didn’t argue so she decided to continue. “I know things have been… weird between us, but maybe that was because we had this bond and didn’t know what it was. Maybe now that we do we can be rational and calm and just… get along.” Even as she said it, she knew it was silly. Nothing was going to change the history between Spike and Angel. She had a hunch she knew exactly what Lorne had meant when he’d told her she’d be making big sacrifices.  
  
“I need to think,” she said suddenly. Turning to Spike, she kissed him softly. “I won’t be gone long. I just need to take a walk or something.”  
  
“You sure you don’t want some company?” he pleaded.  
  
It broke her heart to do it, but she shook her head. “I kinda need to figure some stuff out by myself.”   
  
Saying nothing more to Angel, she left the room and headed downstairs, intending to walk out the front door, but she was met at the bottom of the stairs by Cordelia. “I was just coming to get you. It’s Buffy. She’s on the phone and she sounds totally frantic.”  
  
Oh no. What happened now?  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	33. Chapter 33

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Thirty-Three)  
  
  
  
“What?” Willow said, her voice flat with shock as her blood ran cold. “You can’t mean… oh god.”  
  
Buffy was more than frantic; she was crying and with good reason.  
  
Warren had shot Dawn.  
  
Oh god. “Is she…?”  
  
It was hard to understand Buffy through the hiccupping sobs, but Willow finally pieced together that Dawn was in a coma… and Warren was still on the loose. She didn’t bother to ask about the other two. “We’ll be there soon. I promise. Spike and I will be right home.” Just as Buffy was hanging up, she said, “I love you.”   
  
Her own face was now wet with tears. How could this have happened? Her worries and her walk could wait; she had to go tell Spike what happened and then get a rental car and…   
  
“We can take my car.”   
  
Willow almost jumped out of her skin. “Angel,” she said as she turned around. “I didn’t know you were there.”  
  
“Cordelia told me Buffy was on the phone. It sounded urgent.”  
  
“It is,” she affirmed, her voice choked with emotion. “Dawn’s been shot. She’s in a coma.”  
  
Angel nodded. “We’ll go at sundown… the four of us.”  
  
It took Willow a second, but then she realized who the fourth person was. “You’re bringing Connor?”  
  
“I’m not leaving him here.”  
  
“What about…?”  
  
His voice grew hard. “Buffy can deal with it. She’s had lovers since me.”  
  
Based on his cold demeanour, she decided to remind him, “Dawn’s in a coma, you know.”   
  
It seemed to help because his expression softened slightly. Maybe he was drawing on the memories he’d been given of the world with Dawn in it. “I know. I’m sorry. I’ll try and tell her gently.”   
  
That was good. “We need to go tell Spike. Oh, and pack. Is there room in your car for a crib and stuff? We might be there for a few days.”  
  
“I can buy anything we need for Connor on the way. Let’s just tell Spike what's going on and be ready to go at sundown.” He gritted his teeth. “Where the hell are Fred and Gunn?”  
  
Oh that was right. They’d taken Connor with them to get tacos. “They’ll be back soon. We’d know if anything happened.” Putting her hand on his arm, she added, “You’d sense it.”  
  
He nodded, placing his hand over hers. “Thanks.” She sighed softly and he looked at her, probably noticing her red, tear-stained face. “Are you going to be all right?”  
  
Shaking her head, she looked away. “Not until Dawn is out of that coma and Warren…” Her voice trailed off. Sure, she knew what she _wanted_ to do to that disgusting little freak, but she couldn’t. He was human, and that meant that she was going to have to allow the criminal justice system to handle him. That was the way things worked. It was bad enough that she had Holtz’s blood on her hands.  
  
It suddenly occurred to her to wonder: Was this what Lorne had been about to tell her back in Angel's room? Guess he'd decided he didn't really need to say anything, since she found out so soon afterwards.  
  
They left the office and saw Fred and Gunn coming down the stairs. They were smiling and holding hands so Willow guessed… “Oh hi!” Fred chirped. “We just put Connor down for a nap. Spike’s in there with him.” Angel was visibly relieved. Willow, however, was being hit full force with the weight of what had just happened in Sunnydale. Apparently it showed on her face. “Are you okay?” Fred’s concern was touchingly sincere.  
  
Before she could answer, Angel did it for her. “Buffy’s sister’s been shot and the shooter’s still at large. We’re going to Sunnydale.”  
  
“We?”  
  
“Willow, Spike, and I. And before you ask, yes, I’m taking Connor with me.” Gunn did seem about to say something and Angel cut him off. “He’s my son. No one can protect him better than I can.”  
  
At that, Gunn nodded. “I get it. After everything that’s happened, if it were my kid, I’d want him with me too. Need us to come along?”  
  
Angel shook his head. “Thanks, but I think we can handle this. I want you to hold down the fort here. If Cordy gets a vision, I’d like you to take care of it.”  
  
It seemed like a natural request, but Gunn seemed to be affected by it, though his response was a generic “Will do.” With that, he and Fred headed towards the kitchen and Willow belatedly noticed they were carrying take-out bags. Guess they had leftovers from the taco place.  
  
She and Angel hurried upstairs to his room. The sight that greeted them when they walked in was astonishing. Spike was holding Connor with a gentleness that would have stunned anyone who didn’t know him the way Willow did; he was rocking the little boy and singing softly to him. It was touching to witness. Of course, the tableau faded once he noticed their entrance. He put the boy back in his crib and asked her, “What are you doing back so soon?” Then he seemed to notice her face and he snarled at Angel, “What the hell did you do to her?”  
  
Willow hastened to correct him. “This has nothing to do with Angel.” God this was going to upset him. Going to him, she took his hand and pulled him over to the bed, guiding him to sit beside her. “Buffy called. It’s Dawn. She… Warren shot her. She’s in a coma.” The floodgates opened and she burst into tears again, but Spike was now on his feet. He picked up a lamp and threw it against the wall, shattering it into a thousand pieces.  
  
Pacing, his true face and golden eyes shining with rage, he growled. “We’re going to kill him. I’m gonna find that bastard and rip his heart out and make him eat it! I’ll torture him until he begs for death!”  
  
He was all movement and fury, nearly bouncing off the walls, and while Willow understood completely, she felt lost, not knowing how to comfort the man she loved.  
  
Much to her shock, Angel was the one who was able to soothe him. Grabbing Spike by the arm, he stared him down, forcing him to stand still. His voice was firm and commanding as he spoke. “Calm down, William. We’re going to Sunnydale tonight. We’ll decide the right course of action when we get there. But I promise you, he’ll pay.”  
  
Spike’s features softened, almost normal now. “You promise?” He sounded like a small boy.  
  
Angel nodded. “You have my word.”   
  
Deciding not to worry about what that promise might mean, she elected to just think about the fact that she was grateful for Angel’s willingness to get them home so she could see Dawn.   
  
Would she use magic to bring her back if the doctors offered no concrete hope? She wanted to say yes with no hesitation, but the memory of what Lorne had told her about what bringing Buffy back had done was fresh in her mind and… But this was Dawn - _Dawn_ \- and for all that their relationship was still a little bit damaged, Willow loved her as much as ever. She couldn’t let her languish in some dark, lonely, unconscious state, and she definitely couldn’t let her die. She knew Spike felt the exact same way. Dawn was as much a little sister to him as she was to Buffy… and to Willow.  
  
So her mind was made up. Hopefully, the goddess would see things her way. And as for the Powers That Be… they’d better quit monkeywrenching her life.   
  
Connor began crying fretfully, the commotion having woken him up, and Willow hurried to his crib and picked him up, cooing sweetly to the little boy. “There, there. It’s all right. Uncle Spike was just playing a game.” In a few moments, she’d calmed him and was able to put him back down. She noticed that Spike and Angel were in the far corner of the room, speaking too softly for her to hear. Was there any point in asking them to include her?  
  
Just then Angel turned and noticed that she was watching. “Sundown’s in about half an hour. You and Spike need to go pack. We need to stop and buy some things for Connor and then we’ll get on the freeway. We’ll be in Sunnydale by nine.”   
  
Nine was at least an hour earlier than Willow’s estimate, but she wasn’t going to argue with Angel. Maybe he knew a faster route. If so, she was glad. The sooner they got there, the better. They had to see Dawn.  
  
No, she wasn’t going to worry about the conversation to which she hadn’t been privy just now. All the same, she had a feeling that if Warren had any idea who he’d angered, he’d turn himself in to the police before they got there.  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	34. Chapter 34

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Thirty-Four)  
  
  
  
Angel had been as good as his word. It was only about five minutes past nine and they had just passed the Welcome to Sunnydale sign. Spike hadn’t even suggested knocking it down. His knuckles were white, fists clenched, eyes flickering to gold. It was clear he was thinking about Warren.  
  
She reached into the back where he sat next to Connor’s car seat, putting her hand on his knee. “It’ll be okay.” She hoped that was true. It had to be true.   
  
“Yeah.” He sounded distracted, not that Willow didn’t understand completely. The idea that Dawn might die… it was too horrible to contemplate.   
  
A wave of guilt threatened to drown her. If she’d been here, helping the gang every day, maybe this wouldn’t have happened in the first place. Spike somehow seemed to sense what she was thinking. “It’s not your fault, love. We’ll fix this. We will. That bastard will pay for shooting her.”  
  
Willow might have shuddered at the raw menace in his voice if she didn’t agree that Warren Mears deserved the very worst that man or demon could offer, even if he was human, even if there were rules by which they were supposed to abide. She knew, chip or no, Spike was going to extract something far more agonizing than a pound of flesh if Dawn didn’t wake up as good as new right away. Would she bother to pay lip service to standing in his way?   
  
The hospital loomed in front of them. How many times had she been here in the shockingly few years she’d been engaged in the war against evil? This time felt different, though. _Dawn_ was different. Sure, maybe once upon a time she’d been an ancient being but now she was just a girl, a too-young, too-human girl who didn’t deserve to have her life cut short by some sociopathic geek with delusions of grandeur.   
  
As they pulled into a parking space, Willow debated internally whether to do a protection spell on the car; Warren _was_ on the loose and might recognize it. She wouldn’t want her computer to fall into his hands. Centering for a moment, she didn’t feel any of the tugging at her conscience that she’d always felt – even if she disregarded it – back when she was misusing magic, so she muttered a few words under her breath as she got out and then helped get Connor out of his car seat. He’d been good as gold on the trip, barely fussing at all. How weird was it that the child of two vampires could be such a sweet boy?  
  
Handing the boy to his father, she hoisted the diaper bag, shaking her head when Spike tried to take it from her. She wasn’t going to let the Big Bad be seen carrying baby things. Then she took a deep breath and, holding Spike’s hand, she followed her companions to the main building.   
  
Willow was still surprised she’s had the presence of mind to ask for Dawn’s room number when she was on the phone with Buffy, but since she had, they were able to head straight to the elevator and, after a trip that seemed both too fast and eternally long, there they were. The doors opened and not ten feet away were the people she loved, the people she’d all but abandoned, looking worn and ruined. Not thinking of anything but the anguish on Buffy’s face, Willow ran to her. “Oh God. I’m so sorry.” She pulled her friend into a tight hug and they both began to cry.  
  
“She won’t wake up.” Buffy’s voice was drained and fragile. “She won’t wake up.”  
  
“She’ll wake up.” Spike’s voice rang clear - almost too clear, too loud – in the waiting area. “Bit’ll be just fine, you’ll see.” Then, under his breath and barely audible, came the promise. “Someone’ll pay dearly if she doesn’t come back to us.”  
  
It was then that Anya pointed out something no one else had noticed yet. “There’s a baby. Why is there a baby?”  
  
Oh goddess. Well, it wasn’t like there’d ever been a way around this. Just as she tried to think of a gentle way to break the news to Buffy, who was staring at Angel in total confusion, he said, “This is my son: Connor.”  
  
That was certainly the direct approach, or it was supposed to be. Didn’t seem to have turned out that way, though, because everyone was now sharing Buffy’s stupefied look, even Giles… even Tara. “Vampires can’t have children,” Anya snorted as she rolled her eyes.   
  
Buffy didn’t pay attention, instead she just stared at Angel, obviously noticing the resemblance between him and his… “Son,” her voice was hollow, “you have a son.”   
  
Spike was clearly impatient with the incipient drama. “Can we save the ‘what I did on my summer vacation’ for some other time? ‘Cause we came back to see…”  
  
“Dawn,” Giles interposed. “Quite. Why don’t I…?”  
  
“I’ll show them where her room is.” Buffy had hardened now; Willow recognized her friend’s way of dealing with too much all at once and her heart ached. For the hundredth time she wondered when it was going to be Buffy’s turn to be happy, or at least to not be in pain.  
  
They followed her in silence as she led them down the hall and then into the room where Dawn lay still, the beeping of machines taking the place of her eager chatter. Tears immediately sprang to Willow’s eyes. Buffy spoke up, her voice low and hollow again. “They don’t know why she’s like this. The bullet… it shouldn’t have done this. That’s what they said.” She began to sob and Willow immediately embraced her again, feeling every bit of Buffy’s agony as the body of a Slayer who could face down the scariest evil without flinching shook with emotion in her arms. “Why is this happening? Why can’t they fix her?”  
  
More than anything, she wanted to be able to give Buffy answers… more than anything, what she wanted to do was bring Dawn back. Spike was by the bed, holding one of Dawn’s hands. “Nothin’ wrong with you,” he said in a voice almost choked with fear and pain. “You’re just resting, right? But… me and Willow, we came here just to see ya. Endured Angel’s bloody awful driving and everything. So you wake up soon now, all right?”  
  
Just then a nurse came in. “You need to leave. It’s past visiting hours.”  
  
Spike was about to flash his game face when Angel shook his head. To Willow’s shock, Spike held back and did as ordered, leaving the room with the rest of them, only his clenched jaw giving away how he felt about having to leave Dawn’s bedside. Willow shared his sentiments. She hadn’t even gotten the chance to kiss her cheek or tell her she loved her.   
  
So now here they were, back in the waiting room, no one trying to hide the fact that they were staring at the baby in Angel’s arms. Oh gosh. They’d left the stroller in the trunk. “Can we talk?” Buffy asked him after a few moments of awkward silence. He nodded and Willow watched as they walked down the hall, Angel still cradling his son, in search of someplace where they could talk. That was good, she guessed. It was probably best for those two to be alone right now. It was going to hurt when Buffy learned that Angel had been able to make love to someone who wasn’t her, even if it had been because of some prophecy or something.  
  
Finally, she had the chance to talk to the others. Xander was the first to approach her, but he said nothing at first, then he hugged her and said, “I’m glad you’re here. I missed you.”  
  
“Me too, Xander. Me too.”  
  
Giles’ s voice broke up the friendly embrace. “So… Angel and his… son.”  
  
Spike immediately stepped in. “It wasn’t Willow’s tale to tell, so you can stop right now if you were planning on laying into her for not letting you all know.”  
  
That seemed to stop Giles short and Willow was grateful. She was already bearing a heavy burden of guilt as it was. One more straw and this camel’s spine would snap in two.  
  
“C-can I talk to you for a minute?” Tara? What did Tara want to talk to her about? She turned and looked at Spike, who nodded, and this time Willow was the one following a blonde in search of a quiet corner.   
  
They found one and it was then that Willow heard what Tara had to say. Heard it, but didn’t believe it. “Your magic,” she said haltingly, staring into Willow’s eyes and taking her hand. “We need… Dawn needs your magic. Whatever is wrong with her… I can’t fix and I can’t see what it is. But you could. I know you could.”  
  
“What about….?”  
  
Tara nodded. “What you did… it was bad. And I know I said you should never… but this is Dawn. I don’t know what else to do.”   
  
Willow was staring into the eyes of the girl she’d once loved more than anything… and into the eyes of someone who loved Dawn as much as any of them, more than she’d ever known considering what Tara had just asked of her. If she knew… should she tell Tara that she’d already used magic? More than once? Would it make her feel better about her request?  
  
She chickened out, but she did say, “I’ll do it.” What had she agreed to? And what would happen if the others found out?  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	35. Chapter 35

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Thirty-Five)  
  
  
As Tara walked away, leaving Willow alone, the import of what had just happened became clear… and mind-bogglingly so. Tara. Of all the people who could have asked her to do magic, the fact that it was Tara, the person she had wronged most grievously, the one who understood the power and danger most thoroughly… well, if she could have figured out which way ‘down’ was, Willow might have fainted.   
  
She didn’t though. Instead she kept thinking, realizing that for Tara to ask her to do this… she must have sensed something far greater than human agency at work, something only magic could fight. Was Warren Mears more powerful than Willow had heretofore realized?   
  
Again she felt crushing guilt over having left her friends to deal with Warren and his cohorts without her. And what about those cohorts? What were Andrew and Jonathan doing?  
  
Hiding here by herself wasn’t going to help answer any questions or save any lives, she decided, so she went back to the waiting area where the others were congregated. Angel was there, holding Connor, but Buffy… “She’s with Giles,” Xander said, glaring at Angel for a second before looking back at Willow. Great. Just what they needed: tension and resentment.  
  
“I can see why she’s upset,” Anya offered. “Finding out Angel can have sex but didn’t have it with her.”   
  
“An,” Xander whined.   
  
To Willow’s – and possibly everyone else’s – shock, Anya apologized. “I’m sorry. I’m very worried right now, in case you didn’t know. Not about Angel or sex, of course, but…”  
  
“We get it,” Spike interjected, clearly not as amused by Angel’s discomfort or Anya’s bluntness as he would have been if Dawn wasn’t hanging on by a thread and obviously afraid of just what she’d say on that last subject.  
  
Speaking of which… “Can I talk to you?” she said softly to her lover. He nodded, getting up off the very uncomfortable-looking sofa. She hated to burden him when he was so wracked with fear and anger, but if there was anyone who could advise her about what Tara had asked her to do, it was him, and she needed him to anchor her.  
  
It was probably best if this talk were had outside where there was no chance of being overheard, so she and Spike headed for the elevators, but it didn’t look like they were going to get to be alone after all; Angel followed right behind them. Telling him to stay behind risked creating a scene and she had to admit she understood his reluctance to be alone with Xander and Anya so, taking Spike’s hand, she said nothing and allowed Angel to crash the party.  
  
The ride down to the lobby was silent and somewhat tense, but they got there and then made their way outside. Spike immediately lit a cigarette, his hand almost shaking. “What did Tara have to say?” he asked. It wasn’t a surprise that he knew what had precipitated this talk.  
  
“She asked me to use my magic to help Dawn.” Spike’s eyebrows almost reached his hairline and Angel, while he did not know everything, knew enough to realize that this was quite unexpected. “I know. But she thinks… I mean, Buffy even told me that the doctors don’t know why Dawn’s in a coma. She _should_ be okay, but she isn’t, which is why…” She paused, not wanting to alarm him, but realizing that was an impossible dream considering just what Spike was already feeling. “Tara must have already at least done a reading and sensed something. She just doesn’t know what else to do.”   
  
“So she called in the big gun, eh?” Willow winced slightly at the phrase, which triggered her memory of another death in the Summers family.   
  
Angel observed, “I take it she hasn’t shared any of this with the others.” Astute observation and when Willow met his eyes, he continued. “She wouldn’t have dragged you off for a private chat otherwise. It’s not exactly personal.”   
  
He was right, of course, which immediately brought to mind… “What did Buffy say?”   
  
Obviously it hadn’t been hearts and flowers because Angel’s expression clouded. “She… she’ll be okay.” Willow had a hunch that was all they were going to get for now, and it was true, though limited, because she knew Buffy – she’d be okay. Maybe it was for the best that she learned now, when the pain could get swallowed up by her concern for her sister.  
  
Or maybe it was time for the universe to give Buffy a break, along with some happiness.   
  
On that score, Willow might be able to do something. “I’m going to try and talk to the goddess again. Hopefully this time the Powers That Be won’t interfere.” She sighed heavily, wondering what she’d do if she couldn’t get any answers. Deep down, though, she knew nothing was going to get in her way. Dawn was as deserving of being saved as Connor was and Willow was going to make sure she got to live a long and happy life.  
  
“We should go to the house. Get settled.” Angel was right, of course, but would the others think she was abandoning Dawn by leaving so soon, even if she was only going back to her parents’ house? Just then, Connor awoke and began crying fretfully. Okay. That answered her question. The baby definitely needed to get some rest.   
  
“I’ll go up and tell everyone we’re headed to my house,” Willow said. “You guys get the car.” Then a thought occurred to her and she told Angel, “Maybe you should change Connor or something. He’s got to need it by now.”  
  
Spike nodded his assent to her plan and she hurried back into the hospital and back up to where the sad vigil was still taking place.   
  
When she got there, she saw that Buffy and Giles had rejoined the others. Should she say something? Take Buffy aside and ask if she was okay? She should, huh.  
  
Then she thought about the times she’d kissed Angel and she chickened out. “Hey guys,” she said softly to the group. It was just now that she noticed how weary they were. Lines of sadness in faces too young to carry that weight and eyes bleary from five minute naps in hospital chairs. She felt another crash of guilt as she hesitated before telling them, “I have to go back to my house. Connor should be put to bed.”   
  
She saw Buffy wince slightly and her heart ached, but she didn’t acknowledge what she saw, figuring that would be like rubbing salt in Buffy’s wounds.  
  
It took Xander a moment to remember that Connor was Angel’s infant son, but then his expressions softened and he said in an odd, choked voice, “Yeah. Kids need their sleep.” Willow went to him and hugged him and he clung to her for a moment, as if he were drowning. She flashed back to Jesse and Joyce and Buffy’s body lying at the foot of a tower – he’d lost people so much dearer to him than his biological family could ever be and she understood his terror at the thought of one more piece of his family of choice being ripped away. When he finally let her go, she could still feel his fear.  
  
Then she screwed up her courage and pulled Buffy into an embrace, saying softly, “I love you.”  
  
“I know,” Buffy said, but the words sounded hollow. Or was that just Willow’s imagination? Was Buffy angry at her for not telling her about Connor the moment she knew?  
  
Now was a terrible time to think of these questions and it would be an even worse time to ask them, so she kissed Buffy’s cheek and then turned to leave.  
  
It was only when she was downstairs walking by the desk that she realized she hadn’t said a word to Giles… and he hadn’t said anything to her, not really.  
  
Walking out of the building and into the night, she saw the car waiting for her. When they got back to the house, she was going to ask Angel to tell her more about that conversation he had with Buffy.  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	36. Chapter 36

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Thirty-Six)  
  
  
  
During the short drive from the hospital to the house she and Spike had made into their home, Willow’s energy level had dropped dramatically. She wasn’t sure she was up to anything more strenuous than showing Angel to her parents' room, where he could set up the portable crib and rest with Connor, and then going to her own room to cuddle with Spike and sleep, so she decided to put off grilling Angel about Buffy for another time – one when she could keep her eyes open, for instance.  
  
So when they got inside, she did her best to adhere to her brand new game plan. Spike carried their stuff to their room while Willow took Angel to her parent’s barely-ever-occupied bedroom. But once there, he closed the door behind her and, without preamble, said, “She’s angry.”  
  
No need to ask who ‘she’ was; it was clear he was talking about Buffy. “At me?” she asked softly as Angel handed his sleeping son to her before he began setting up the boy’s temporary bed.  
  
There was a creak as the crib was unfolded and Connor made a small, soft sound, but his eyes stayed closed and Willow waited for Angel to answer her question. “Mostly at me,” he said once the crib was ready and she handed him his son and let him put him to bed, “but yes, she thinks you should have told her. “ He took her hand. “I told her it wasn’t fair to expect you to betray a confidence.”  
  
Normally, she knew that reasoning would have worked on Buffy. But now? With Dawn in a coma? She had a feeling Buffy was in too much pain to be fair and logical and understanding… and she couldn’t blame her for that. “All I do is hurt her,” she said, almost under her breath.   
  
With that, Angel pulled her into his arms, but this time there was no amorous intent. “I’m sorry. I know how hard it’s been for you, lying to her.” Oh yeah, that’s right – she was _still_ lying to Buffy, wasn’t she? At least by omission.   
  
But there was nothing she could do about it. Not like now was a whiz-bang time to tell her friend that she was mystically bonded to the love of said best friend’s life because of the spell she did to rip her out of Heaven. She had a hunch that there was never going to be a good time for that. “Does she hate me?” Because okay, Buffy had hugged her in the hospital, but she’d seen movies like the Godfather: Didn’t Mafia dons hug before one of them pulled out a big submachine gun or left a horse’s head in the other guy’s bed or something?   
  
The memories of a fawn swam before her eyes and she felt sick and awful all over again.   
  
“She doesn’t hate you.” Angel meant what he said, she knew, but Willow still wasn’t sure. What she _was_ sure of, though, were two things: Angel still hadn’t told her everything about his talk with Buffy and she was tired and needed her rest. Angel seemed to sense the latter. “Go get some sleep.”  
  
“Yes, sir,” she said as they parted, mock-saluting him limply at the door.   
  
When she got back to her familiar bedroom, Spike was waiting. “So. Did he tell ya what Buffy had to say?” Well, nice to see you too. She shot him a look and he shrugged. “Figured that’s what you were in there talking to him about.”  
  
He was right, of course, and weren’t they kind of past the whole ‘social niceties’ phase, anyway? “Buffy’s mad. Not just at Angel, but at me.” It was then that the full weight of her guilt hit her and Spike took her in his arms. She didn’t cry, but she thought she might have if she wasn’t both tired and aware that she needed to stay strong.  
  
Spike’s arms were far more comforting than Angel’s had been and she sighed. “What about… what Tara asked me?”  
  
Pulling back for a moment, Spike stared into her face. “Do it. I don’t care if you have to keep it secret from the rest of that lot forever, but you do what it takes to bring Bit out of this.”  
  
She nodded, but said, “I need to ask the goddess first.”  
  
“Yeah. Want you to do this right.” Then he pulled her close again and kissed her. It wasn’t a prelude to anything, just an expression of love, and Willow could not have been more grateful.  
  
“We should get some sleep.”  
  
He went to her dresser and got her a fresh sleepshirt and himself a pair of the pajama bottoms he’d taken to wearing on nights when there was to be no hanky-panky whatsoever. They changed quickly and silently and crawled into bed. Willow was so exhausted that she fell asleep the moment she felt Spike’s arms around her.  
  
  
  
It was early, very early, when Willow awoke so suddenly it took her a moment to realize she was no longer dreaming. Dawn… dawn for Dawn, she thought. So she slipped quietly out of bed, trying not to disturb Spike. Without thinking, she tiptoed quietly downstairs and into the backyard. It seemed as if the soft light of early morning was calling to her and, careless of the cold and damp, she sat on the grass and closed her eyes.  
  
She tumbled into the meditative state the same way she’d tumbled out of sleep and before she knew it she felt the presence of her goddess. Her mind was full of questions – Why now and not in Los Angeles? Were the Powers That Be listening in? Who was in charge, anyway? –but instead of answers, what she received was permission… and a question of her own to answer: ‘Are you prepared to make the sacrifice?’  
  
Lorne’s voice rang in her ears, but it got lost in a whirl of colours that somehow were sounds. She still had so many questions, how exactly she was supposed to go about saving Dawn chief among them, but the question crowded it all out, impatient for her answer.  
  
That answer came from her heart before her mind could step in, wanting to know just exactly what the sacrifice was: ‘Yes.’  
  
Then she felt something… something powerful and important flowing through her. With that, her eyes opened. Looking up, she saw the sunrise, and without consciously knowing how she was going to bring Dawn back, she knew that she’d know when the time came.  
  
She got up and went back inside, not all that surprised when she saw Spike waiting for her in the kitchen and incredibly grateful that he’d made a pot of tea. He was better at brewing it than anyone she knew, even Giles. Suddenly, she felt the chill of the morning air and the wet grass on the back of her legs and her teeth began to chatter. “Thanks,” she said as he handed her a steaming cup, letting the warmth of it soak through her hands and take away the cold.  
  
“I’d tell you it was foolish to go outside in that get-up, but I’m guessing you weren’t thinking things through much. Talk to the goddess? Or was it those Powers again?”  
  
“It was the goddess,” she said, taking a sip of her tea before continuing, “I can save Dawn. Today.”  
  
Spike’s smile was more beautiful than any sunrise.  
  
No, she didn’t tell him about the sacrifice. She let him feel the joy of what she was about to do. There’d be plenty of time to tell him when it was all over. For now, she smiled back at him and drank her tea. It was very good tea.  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	37. Chapter 37

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Thirty-Seven)  
  
  
  
Even though she now knew that she could help Dawn, Willow realized there was still one obstacle standing in her way, and boy was it a doozy – she needed to be alone in the room with her without fear of Buffy (or any hospital personnel) walking in. That was a whole lot easier said than done.   
  
Then she thought about Tara; maybe she would help her. After all, Tara was the one who’d suggested she use her magic to help Dawn in the first place. She went to the phone, but then realized that Tara wouldn’t be at her apartment. No, she’d be at the hospital with everyone else… everyone else who probably hated her for going home last night instead of staying and keeping vigil over Dawn.  
  
Spike was behind her and he slipped his arms around her waist, pulling her close. “I know.” And the funny thing was that he did. He got it, got her, got everything.  
  
She should go upstairs, grab a quick shower, get dressed, and head for the hospital, but… she needed her love. Turning in his embrace, she kissed him, letting him know what she wanted.  
  
It was quickly apparent that he wanted the same thing as her hand found its way to the fly of his jeans. He was already hard and ready. Oh. She’d sort of planned to take this upstairs to their room, but it was clear Spike had other ideas and in seconds, she was flat on her back on the kitchen table, sleepshirt pushed up and panties wrenched off. “I’m hungry, pet. Haven’t had my breakfast.” Again – oh. Which was pretty much the only syllable her brain could manage with Spike’s head buried between her legs and that cool tongue doing the most amazing things ever. Goddess, he was the most incredible lover.  
  
Before she knew it, she was biting her lip to keep from screaming as she found release, but it wasn’t over yet. A moment later, Spike was on top of her. “I love you,” he whispered before he thrust inside, forceful and needy – feeling the urge to connect as greatly as she did – and he began a hard, fast rhythm as she met each thrust.  
  
He felt wonderful, filling her, but even as she once again found ecstasy, there was something missing – that feeling of total completion wasn’t quite there. It was the stress; it had to be. None of her feelings for Spike had changed or grown less, quite the contrary. She loved him more than ever.  
  
This too would pass, she told herself, as her cries were swallowed up in his kiss, sweat-slick hair clinging to her cheek, her orgasm wracking her body as he followed her over the edge. “I love you,” she panted when it was over and he withdrew from her body.  
  
“I love you, too.” But his eyes were shadowed and she wondered if he’d felt that same odd difference. She said nothing, though, as she got up from the table, pulled on her panties and pulled down her shirt, then went upstairs. Dawn was who was important right now; she would worry about everything else later… if she even needed to.  
  
  
  
Once she finished her shower and dressed, she put together a little bag of magical tools which she shoved into her purse and then went back downstairs. She was surprised and a little unnerved to see Angel in the living room with Spike – especially since they stopped speaking the moment she entered. No need to ask what they’d been discussing, was there?   
  
They were going to make Warren pay.  
  
How did she feel about that?  
  
As long as she’d been part of Buffy’s fight against evil, Willow had known one thing – there were different rules for dealing with humans. She’d always accepted that. How then could she stand by knowing that Angel – and Spike, though he couldn’t play an active role – planned to break those rules and treat Warren as if he were a soulless demon?  
  
But wasn’t he? Okay, yeah, he was human, but so were Hitler and Stalin and Pol Pot and Willow couldn’t think of a good argument for not going at them all guns blazing. So far, it was true, Warren hadn’t exactly racked up an equivalent body count, but did that mean he didn’t _intend_ to? Because from all the evidence presented thus far, he sure seemed to be crazy for power and destruction. Who knew what he would do in the future?  
  
She was rationalizing, wasn’t she? But that didn’t mean she wasn’t right. She had been in the trenches for too long and she knew too much to believe that it was as simple as demons bad, humans good. Her lover was a soulless demon and Dawn was in a coma thanks to a soul-bearing human with whom she’d gone to high school. Nothing was as simple as the Watchers Council, and her friends, wanted to believe.  
  
So what was she going to do? She was going to look the other way. Right now, after all, she had her own grey areas to explore and her own transgressions against the rules according to Buffy to commit. “I’m going to the hospital,” she said brightly, though she had to admit she was sort of dreading the long walk to the other end of town – too much time alone to think.  
  
Angel must have sensed something. “Take the car.”   
  
Really? He wanted her to drive his car? She intended to argue, but something in his tone… and anyway, Spike would probably kill her for passing up the chance to drive Angel’s pride and joy. “Okay.” A moment later, he had fished the keys out of his jacket pocket and handed them to her. She’d never driven a convertible before. Gosh.  
  
“Be careful, love,” Spike said as she kissed him goodbye.  
  
“You, too.”  
  
Neither one of them promised to do so, which was good, she guessed, since they’d both be lying if they did. For a moment they stood, staring into each other’s eyes, and then Angel intruded on their moment as he said the strangest thing. “Do whatever you have to.”  
  
She turned and looked at him and their eyes met; she felt a tremor of apprehension. Time to go before that got added to everything her brain longed to chew on until it had sucked every bit of terrifying marrow from its bones.  
  
Her first time driving a convertible and she couldn’t even enjoy it, but no, she didn’t. Right now, it was just an engine getting her from point A to point B in the most expeditious way. That way took all of ten minutes, thankfully, and shortly after finding a parking space she was on the elevator up to the floor where Dawn was lying comatose.   
  
Everyone was still in the waiting area, bleary-eyed and much the worse for wear. None of them looked as if they’d slept. “Hey guys,” she said in a mutedly cheery tone, feeling incredibly guilty about the sleep, shower, and sex she’d had.   
  
Neither Xander nor Anya seemed resentful – guess Willow still rated some extra tolerance thanks to making their wedding happen – but Giles’s expression was inscrutable… as was Buffy’s. “Is there any change?” she asked, knowing there hadn’t been but desperate for something to say.  
  
“No.” Buffy’s voice was hollow with pain and Willow knew that what she intended to do for Dawn was the right thing, even if her friend could never know. Buffy had lost too much already – her sister dying would be beyond cruel and unusual punishment.   
  
Tara had been sitting in a chair off to the side, but suddenly she got up and said, “I need some coffee. Could you… I… could I borrow some money?”   
  
It was the clumsiest pretext imaginable, but luckily, everyone was too worn out to see through Tara’s inept lie and Willow’s equally clunky, “Sure. I need to get change anyway. Why don’t I go with you?” So now they were headed for the cafeteria – they did, after all, need to come back with coffee – but before they even got there, Willow blurted out, “I’m going to do it, but I need your help. There has to be a way to distract everyone so I can be alone in Dawn’s room for a few minutes. Can you think of something?”  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	38. Chapter 38

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Thirty-Eight)  
  
  
  
Willow stared at her friends, sleeping peacefully, if awkwardly, on the chairs and couches the hospital really never intended to be home sweet home. Tara shrugged sheepishly. “They do need rest, so I didn’t do anything bad.” It sounded like a statement, but Willow knew it was really a question.  
  
“No, you didn’t,” she reassured her. Tara was incapable of causing harm; that was one of the things she had once loved about her former girlfriend and it was still something she truly admired. She squeezed Tara’s shoulder. “I’m gonna go in now.” She didn’t ask the same thing she’d once asked of Spike; she was more confident now that she was doing right, but she also knew that if things went wrong, no matter what, Tara couldn’t and wouldn’t be the one to stop her. For that she still counted on Spike – and Angel.  
  
Clutching her purse, Willow stepped into Dawn’s room and murmured a cloaking spell under her breath, grateful that Tara had taken some of the magical burden off her shoulders since she was pretty sure she was going to need every bit she had left. Dawn looked so fragile, lying there hooked up to machines. Here was a girl who was always so full of energy and life, but now… No, it wasn’t going to stay like this. Willow could fix her; she could. Or rather, through Willow, the goddess could fix her.   
  
She got her bag out of her purse and pulled out the sacred sand, drawing a circle on the floor inside which she then sat. Next came the candle, then the incense.   
  
Breathe, Willow, breathe. You can do this.  
  
Closing her eyes, she opened herself up to the power of her goddess. The room darkened, heedless of the sunlight outside, and the smoke from the incense grew into thick, spiraling tendrils. There was no going back now.  
  
Her head jerked back and she could feel the magic coursing through her. But the voice that spoke to her… it wasn’t her goddess. No, the Powers that Be were back.   
  
_The sacrifice is accepted._  
  
That was all the warning she got before a searing pain wracked her body, as if something was being ripped from within her. Oh goddess. What had she done? Her mouth opened in a soundless scream as the agony paralyzed her. How long could this last? Was this what Angel had endured in Hell?  
  
But a moment later it was over as if it had never happened. Willow collapsed in relief. The incense no longer burned and only a faint wisp of smoke rose from the candle. The room was once again bright with light. The sacred sand had somehow disappeared.  
  
Dawn, however, remained unchanged.   
  
What went wrong? Was this another one of her epic failures? Another example of her hubris gone awry? Tears filled her eyes as she cleaned up the candle and incense, putting the evidence of her futility back in the bag and muttering the words to undo the cloaking spell. Getting up, she headed for the door, not knowing how she was going to break the bad news to Tara… or Spike. Would they ever forgive her?  
  
“Willow?”  
  
The weak voice from the bed caught her completely by surprise and she almost stumbled over her own feet as she whipped around. “Dawn?” She rushed to the bed, followed within a moment by a doctor and other assorted medical types who edged her out of the way.  
  
She let them, moving away to stand near the door again as she was hit by a wave of knowledge…   
  
Oh god. She wasn’t… well, maybe she was still human, but she wasn’t going to die.  
  
None of what she knew made any sense, but it all had something to do with Buffy taking Dawn’s death, Willow bringing Buffy back, and then Dawn taking the bullet for Buffy, which had trapped her in a limbo between the life that wasn’t hers and the death… the death an ancient, mystical Key no longer had.  
  
Not until Willow gave it to her.  
  
How the ability to die brought Dawn back to life was something Willow had never learned in science class, but somehow that was the way it worked. Dawn would now live out a normal human life and Willow…  
  
Willow was going to share something with Spike… and Angel – the rare ‘privilege’ of watching her friends grow old and die while she never did. Without warning, she felt a rush of the same horrible nausea she’d felt when she’d caused Holtz’s death and she raced from the room, barely making it to the bathroom before she vomited.   
  
When her stomach had finally stopped spewing forth whatever it could find, she staggered from the stall. Tara was standing there, looking sweet and grateful and worried. “Are you okay?” He voice was full of concern even as Willow could see the joy and relief in her eyes. “Thank you,” she added, and seconds later, Willow received a brief but heartfelt hug. “Buffy’s in with her now. She’s awake.”  
  
“I know.”  
  
“Is… is something wrong?”  
  
If there was one thing of which Willow was absolutely certain, it was that she wouldn’t tell Tara – not now and not ever – just what Dawn’s life had cost her. That knowledge would only saddle her with guilt she didn’t deserve. “No,” she lied, plastering a smile on her face. “It’s just been so long, you know? Using magic again made me feel kind of ooky. I’ll be fine.”  
  
“You’re sure?”  
  
“Yeah.” She went to the sink, rinsing her mouth and then splashing cold water on her face. “I should probably just go. Let Buffy have Dawn to herself for awhile.” But Dawn wasn’t part of Buffy at all anymore, was she? Hadn’t been for longer than anyone had known.  
  
“I… I know how hard this was for you.” There were tears in Tara’s eyes. Happy tears, but still… “I know I should never have asked you… but thank you.” With that, she hugged Willow again. “You should probably go in before you leave,” she suggested. She was right. It would look really weird if she didn’t. Willow just hoped Dawn hadn’t told anyone she’d seen her the moment she woke up.  
  
Following Tara, Willow was soon back in a very crowded room. The gang was all there, huddled around Dawn’s bed, trying hard to keep the volume of their jubilation at hospital-mandated levels. “Will!” Xander almost crowed, “Look who’s back.”  
  
She joined the others at the bed, worried for a moment when Dawn gave her a quizzical look, but it passed and what she said was, “I’m really glad to see you.”   
  
“Me too, Dawnie,” she said and she meant it. “I know there’s someone else you wanna see too, so…”  
  
“Spike?” There was the girlish squeal Willow knew so well. Dawn was okay, wasn’t she? So at least her sacrifice had been… well, worth it, wasn’t it? Because Dawn was awake and normal and alive. Whatever the fallout was, she’d deal with it.  
  
“Yeah. I’m gonna go get him and figure out a way for him to get in here during the daytime and…”  
  
“Angel,” Buffy interrupted, “He’ll know how to get here through the tunnels.”   
  
“Okay.”   
  
With some trepidation, Willow watched as Buffy kissed Dawn’s forehead and said, “I’ll be right back.” Then she led Willow out into the hall. “Look,” she said as soon as they were alone, “I know you think I’m mad at you, and maybe I was, but… right now the only thing that matters is that Dawn’s okay and you’re here and… I love you, Willow. If I’ve learned anything lately, it’s that family… family is everything.” She grabbed Willow and hugged her so tightly that Willow worried about her ribcage, but decided not to say anything. It felt too good to feel the friendship and love between them again.  
  
“I know,” Willow choked out. “I love you, too.” Buffy finally let go and then Willow said, “Go be with her. I’ll be back soon with Spike.”  
  
Buffy smiled at her and started to walk away, but then she turned for a moment and said, “I meant it, you know. We’re good.” Then she was gone.  
  
Willow made her own exit, wondering just how long Buffy’s feelings would last if she learned how Dawn’s recovery had come about it, and, oh god – what about the bond she had with Angel?  
  
There was nothing to be done now, though. Nothing except to head back to the house and share the good news... and the other news, as well.   
  
She was going to be spending eternity with Spike.  
  
She was going to be spending eternity with Angel.  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	39. Chapter 39

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Thirty-Nine)  
  
  
  
Willow barely remembered the drive home. She could only be grateful that somehow in her haze she hadn’t destroyed Angel’s precious convertible. But now, here she was, parked in the driveway… and all that was left was figuring out how to tell them the news – all of it.  
  
Guess she’d start with the good stuff, huh? Because it really was good, great even: Dawn was out of her coma. Alive and well and able to go on and have a perfectly normal human life. And if it had taken Willow sacrificing that possibility for herself? She had to admit that even if she’d known the sacrifice she’d have to make in advance, she’d have done it.  
  
So okay, what was done was done and… she’d figure out how to live with it. She kind of had to, seeing as how it was… well… _done_. Getting out of the car, she headed for the house.  
  
“Hey,” she called out as she came through the front door, slightly embarrassed by her loud tone when she realized both vampires – and little Connor – were in the living room. “Sorry,” she offered sheepishly.   
  
Spike immediately leapt from the couch. “Good news, isn’t it?” His eyes were full of hope and clouds.  
  
“She’s awake.”  
  
In seconds, Spike was lifting her up and twirling her around. “Knew you were gonna do it!” Angel’s reaction was, naturally, more subdued, but he did smile. A moment later, however, Spike put her down and looked at her quizzically. “Something’s wrong, isn’t it?”  
  
“Wrong?” Oh goddess. Flashback time. She hadn’t heard herself in that ‘sucking on helium’ tone since high school.  
  
Now even Angel was skeptical of her and he and Spike both fixed her with stern glares. Guess she wasn’t going to be have a chance to figure out some smooth way of sliding into the telling of her tale. Maybe it was a good thing, though, being sort of forced to just blurt it out. At least then everything would be right out in the open. “I… ummm… I kind of had to make a sacrifice.”  
  
“What?” Wow. Confrontation in two part harmony. Guess Warren wasn’t the only thing Spike and Angel could agree on.   
  
You know, they weren’t going to see this as nearly as big a deal as she did, so why didn’t she just come out with it? “I had to give Dawn my death – or, really, my ability to die.” They seemed pretty confused, and honestly, so was she, but she did her best to explain. “Buffy took Dawn’s death at the tower, and then Dawn took Buffy’s when Warren shot her, but she’s the Key, or she was, so she was in limbo and…”  
  
“Now she’s a real girl,” Spike finished, pulling her back into his arms and holding her close. “You’re never gonna leave me,” he said softly. “You’re never gonna be gone.” Looking over his shoulder, her eyes locked with Angel’s and it was clear he was glad. Neither of them understood… but then again, how could they? They’d been dead so long… and they’d killed everyone who might have tied them to the world from which they’d been torn.  
  
Spike’s voice broke the hold of Angel’s gaze. “Thank you.”   
  
She had no idea what he meant. Was he thanking her for saving Dawn? For living forever? For both? But she was a polite kind of person, so she said, “You’re welcome,” and kissed him back when he kissed her softly on the lips. “Dawn wants to see you. I’m supposed to ask Angel how we can get there through the tunnels.” She turned to that very vampire as she spoke.   
  
For a moment she wondered what he was thinking since he didn’t speak, but then he offered, “There’s an entrance behind the coffee shop near the Shell station. That would be the closest one and there’s shade there. Should be safe to get Spike into the tunnel from the car.”  
  
“Thanks. Will you be okay here with Connor by yourself? We have cable in case you want to watch TV or anything while we’re gone.”  
  
“No porn, I’m afraid,” Spike added, and Willow punched him lightly in the arm, “but it’s a safe bet at least one of those movie channels is running that Interview with the Vampire nonsense, so at least you’ll have a good laugh.”  
  
Angel shook his head ruefully, as if he was above television which… maybe he was, since she’d never seen him watch. Thinking back to her old high school reading, she said, “I think I still have some Dickens and Camus and stuff in my room. Want me to get some books for you?”  
  
He nodded. “I’d like that, thanks.”  
  
So, as good as her word, Willow hustled upstairs and rooted through her bookshelves, looking for anything that might appeal to Angel. Great Expectations, The Stranger… oh! Look at that. Hidden behind one of her old guides to Linux was a copy of Siddhartha. Hadn’t she loaned this to Xander only to have it disappear? Guess not, because here it was. Angel would have at least a couple of choices. Anything more? A further look at her shelves yielded nothing she thought would be to his liking. Naked Lunch? Nope, no way was Angel’s taste that modern. Guess these three were gonna have to do. There was no more time; she and Spike needed to get back to the hospital ASAP.  
  
Back downstairs she went with the three paperbacks after a quick stop at the linen closet to get a blanket for Spike. “Here you go,” she chirped, handing the books to Angel. Spike snorted as he saw the titles, but said nothing.   
  
Of course, Angel glared at Spike, but thankfully he too held his tongue. “You should get going. I told Spike how to get you there once you’re in the tunnels. Buffy and the others will be expecting you.”  
  
He was sure right about that. “I’ll go pull the car to the back door. Should I open the trunk?”  
  
Spike nodded. “Yeah, love, that’d be safest.”  
  
It was weird, the thought of stowing her boyfriend in the trunk of the car, but it was all part of the wackiness of dating a vampire, so, after a quick ‘see you later’ to Angel, she hurried out to the car and pulled it down to the back door. Off they were going to the hospital.  
  
  
  
It had been as easy as Angel had said to get Spike from the car to the tunnels and, after doing a protection spell on the car since leaving it behind some coffee shop next to a gas station didn’t seem totally safe even in Sunnydale, she and Spike headed down into the late Mayor Wilkins’s biggest contribution to this town – an underground highway system for the town’s less public citizens.   
  
“Wow. Still pretty well-maintained, huh?” she said, trying to be lighthearted.   
  
Spike stopped walking and took her hand, pulling her close in the low-lit space. “I know you’re havin’ it rough right now, but I can’t help but be happy about this, happier than I’ve ever been. You and me, we’re forever. Even if we do have to hang around with my idiot of a sire, at least we’ll have each other, right?”  
  
Oh god. Suddenly she realized… “It’s not that,” she explained, holding tight to his hands. “I love the idea of spending forever with you. I love you. It’s just… Buffy? Xander? Giles? Dawn? They’re not going to be sharing it with us. They’re going to get older and they’re going to hate me and we’re going to grow apart and then they’ll die and…”  
  
Her words were soon swallowed up in Spike’s kiss. When it ended, he said, “They love you, pet. You’re not gonna lose them. Somehow things’ll all come right. We’ll make sure of that.” She wanted to believe him, so she told herself that she did and they started walking again.   
  
Angel’s directions had indeed been good since they got where they were going almost as fast as they would have by car. There was a certain fittingness in winding up in the part of the hospital where they kept bodies and did autopsies, but luckily no one saw them emerge and they managed to get to the elevator without anyone being the wiser.  
  
A few moments later and they were back in the waiting area, where Anya sat, drinking a soda and leafing through an ancient copy of People magazine. “I volunteered to wait for you,” she said, with no preamble, the second she spotted them. “I told everyone it would be polite. Besides, I got tired of listening to them all saying the same things over and over again. I’m as happy as anyone that Dawn is fine and not dying like I thought she might be, but if all you’re going to do is tell her how glad you are that she’s awake and that it’s a miracle, you don’t need to. Buffy’s already said it 17 times. Well, 17 while I was in the room. She might have said it more since then.”  
  
Anya was always Anya, no matter what. But Willow understood that the things she said which sometimes sounded thoughtless were her way of coping with caring about people for the first time in over a thousand years. It was still painful and frightening for her, especially with Joyce’s death and then Buffy’s bringing home the reality of mortality to her in a way she’d never experienced as a vengeance demon. Staring into the endless black of eternity gave Willow a sense of empathy for Anya’s struggles.  
  
“It’s okay. I think Spike will come up with something original.”  
  
“Oh. Good. Then I should go with you. It’s probably expected. Anyway, these magazines are hopelessly outdated. With all the money they charge people to be here, you’d think they could supply current issues for the friends and family to read while they’re stuck here waiting.”  
  
Anya’s remark about money suddenly had Willow concerned. How was Buffy going to pay Dawn’s hospital bill? Her feelings must have shown on her face because just then Spike raised an eyebrow at her and nodded. Guess they were going to talk about that later, huh? Good, because she really wanted to figure out a way to help. She still felt so guilty about everything she hadn’t done when Buffy was dead.  
  
But for now, she just took Spike’s hand and went with him as they followed Anya down the hall to Dawn’s room. Boy was she ever going to be glad to see Spike.   
  
Now if only she stayed silent on the subject of who, besides the doctors, had been there when she woke up.  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	40. Chapter 40

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Forty)  
  
  
  
Dawn’s face lit up when she saw Spike. “You’re here!” That girlish squeal… Willow was glad to hear it, as was everyone else.   
  
“Hey there, Bit.” He seemed lost for what else to say and it was touching somehow, seeing him like this – soft and sentimental, but in a different way than he was with her. This was what he’d be like as a father, Willow thought, and the knowledge of what they – what _she_ – would never have hit home all over again. There might have been a prophecy for Angel, but somehow she knew there wasn’t one for her and Spike.  
  
Oh well. The option to have children hadn’t been there before the spell to save Dawn, after all, so there was no reason to brood about it now. Had she even wanted children anyway?   
  
Not really, she admitted, it was just that nothing chafed more than having a choice taken away completely. Of course, the irony of that wasn’t lost on her considering what she’d done to Tara… and to Buffy… and – however accidentally – to Angel and Spike.  
  
Now wasn’t the time and here wasn’t the place, so she shook off her dismal thoughts and focused on the tender scene playing out before her. Spike was placing a gentle kiss on Dawn’s forehead. “When are they gonna let you outta this place?” he asked, and hey – at least that was original as was evidenced by the fact that Anya’s expression actually brightened.   
  
“They want to keep her for observation for a few more days,” Buffy replied, an undercurrent in her voice probably speaking of concern about the mounting bill.  
  
“Pfft,” Spike snorted. “What the bloody hell do they want to observe? Yeah, she’s a pretty thing, but let ‘em take a picture and let us take her home. Anyone with half a brain can see she’s right as rain now and she’ll be even better when she’s back in her own bed.”  
  
Dawn blushed at Spike’s compliment, but she was quick to agree. “He’s right. I feel totally fine. I mean it’s not like they did anything anyway, it was all…” She stopped short and everyone stared. Oh goddess. She knew, didn’t she? “It was all just me needing to heal and stuff before waking up. I mean, I’m still a Key, right? That’s got to make things different.” Dawn’s eyes met Willow’s briefly. She really did know… and she was covering for her.  
  
“That could be true. I mean, I never get colds. Never. Not even when Xander sneezes all over me.” Bless Anya and thank the Powers and her goddess and anyone else she could possibly think of because it looked like no one else thought anything of that slight break in Dawn’s explanation any longer.  
  
In fact, it looked like Spike was going to carry the day… and Dawn. “What do you say, Bit? Fancy breaking out of this joint?” With that, he made to unhook whatever was still attached to her, actions that seemed to alert the medical staff since a nurse immediately entered the room.  
  
“What are you doing?” The woman’s voice was breathy and prissy all at once.  
  
Now was the time for Buffy to object, if ever, but she didn’t. Instead, she said, “I’m taking my sister home.”  
  
“You can’t do that!”  
  
“Yes, I can. I’m her legal guardian.”  
  
Incoherent spluttering followed, but it stilled when Buffy uttered the magic words, “We don’t have insurance,” and all they got subsequently was some mild grumbling that there were papers to sign since Dawn was leaving against medical advice.  
  
And that was that. Five minutes later, at most, Dawn was in a wheelchair on her way with the others to the elevator and Willow and Spike headed for the stairwell to sneak back down to the tunnel entrance after promising that they’d be at Buffy’s house later.  
  
Once they were safely down in the underground transit system, Spike said, “Niblet knows, doesn’t she? That you saved her.”  
  
“I think so. I wasn’t sure if she remembered seeing me when she came to or if she did that she knew what it meant, but… Oh god. What if Buffy finds out?”  
  
“She won’t. Not because o’ Dawn anyway. The girl’s a sight better at keeping secrets than any of you lot give her credit for.” Okay, there was a story there, but Willow had a hunch she was never going to hear it. In a way, she was glad of that. Dawn trusted Spike and she wouldn’t want Spike to betray that trust, not even with her.  
  
Taking a breath, she said, “All right,” and let Spike lead her back through the tunnels to where they’d left the car. Just as they were about to climb up the ladder, however, something occurred to her. “Where’s your blanket?”  
  
  
  
The fact that Spike had somehow mislaid the blanket made the logistics more challenging, but Willow was still able to get him safely into the trunk and back to the house, where Angel was waiting… looking grim and impatient. He said nothing though, and the three of them headed for the living room. “Connor’s upstairs,” Angel said.  
  
Willow nodded. “He’s probably worn out with all the excitement.”  
  
Then, of course, he dropped a bombshell. “You’re going to have to stay here with him tonight.”  
  
Huh? Then a chill crept up her spine. She knew what this meant. No. Decidedly not. Luckily, she had a built-in reason why this was not going to happen. “We promised Dawn we were going to stop by and visit her.” She turned to Spike and repeated, “We promised.”  
  
The conflict Spike was experiencing showed as plain as day on his face and it only confirmed Willow’s suspicions, especially when Angel pressed his case. “I spoke to a friend of mine today.”  
  
“The one you told me about?” Spike was clearly being swayed.  
  
“Yeah. The information’s only good for a short time. After that…” Angel’s voice trailed off, but the subject of the conversation was so thinly veiled that keeping up the pretense was a farce.  
  
Willow decided to end that farce right now. “You guys are going after Warren and the others.”  
  
To her surprise, Angel shook his head. “The other two are in jail. No one’s posting bail for them.” Of course, he wasn’t denying… “Warren’s holed up, trying to put something together to get to Mexico.”  
  
Spike’s chip was now the first thing on her mind. Warren might be more evil than many demons, but he was human and as such, Spike would be at his mercy. He’d already shot Dawn. “Why don’t you just tell the police where he is?”  
  
Her reply was a snort from Spike and cold impassivity from Angel. Okay, she had planned not to bring this up but… “Spike, you can’t fight humans. What if he…?”  
  
“Nothing’s going to happen to Spike.” Angel’s voice sent a chill through her, but his words were more than a promise and the truth was… No, she didn’t want to leave Warren’s fate in the hands of the justice system either. You never knew what could happen. Look at that woman in L.A. who’d gotten probation for shooting a teenage girl in the back of the head.  
  
“What about Dawn?”  
  
Spike took her hand. “You and I can pay her a quick visit at sundown, then we’ll come back here and Angel and I will… Well, we’ll do what needs doing.”  
  
There were so many questions Willow wanted to ask: What exactly was Spike going to do? Why was Angel so committed to this? Was Warren going to die? But somehow she couldn’t ask any of them. “It’s going to be all right, love,” Spike said, and she believed him.  
  
She had to.  
  
The subject was dropped as if it had never been broached. Willow went to the kitchen and fixed some blood for Spike and Angel along with a sandwich for herself and then joined her companions in the living room, where they were watching television.  
  
What do you know? Spike had been right this morning. _Interview with the Vampire_ was on.  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	41. Chapter 41

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Forty-One)  
  
  
  
The visit to Buffy’s had been brief and surprisingly awkward, though that was mostly because everyone was still tired but unwilling to admit it and just go home to get some rest – well, they had been before Anya had finally declared that she and Xander absolutely had to go back to their place and sleep; they hadn’t had sex since Dawn was shot and she needed rest so that tomorrow night they could start making up for all she’d missed. That had, however disturbingly, broken the logjam and soon enough, everyone but Buffy and Dawn had departed the house, including Willow and Spike.  
  
Now there were no more delays. Angel’s plan was going forward.  
  
Willow realized she was torn. All right, Warren was a threat and he needed to be… neutralized, but the closer it got to the time when Angel and Spike were going to set off on a mission to do just that… Yes, her scruples kicked in a little bit, but more than that – she was more terrified than ever about what might happen to Spike. She was going to live forever. How could she bear it without him by her side?  
  
But she’d already mentioned it once when she hadn’t intended to and there was no way she was going to hurt him by bringing up his vulnerability twice. It would do no good and it might even make him more reckless, seeing as how she stood no chance of talking him out of this, so she kept her mouth shut and focused on the feel of his hand in hers as they walked back to her house.   
  
The walk didn’t take nearly long enough and before she knew it, she and Spike were standing in her living room, tongues thick with silence, hands still entwined, until Angel came downstairs. “Hey,” he greeted them in a low, unconvincingly casual tone.   
  
“We ready to go?”  
  
Spike’s bald question startled Willow, but not nearly as much as the sudden emptiness of his hand letting go of hers. Angel nodded and then addressed her. “Connor’s upstairs sleeping. We’ll be back before daylight.”  
  
She hadn’t noticed before, but there was a bag on the floor and long experience made it easy for her to see the outlines of more than a few weapons that were jammed into it. Angel picked it up, but before he – and Spike – could head for the door, she grabbed Angel’s arm. “Bring him back to me,” she said in a voice that startled her with the promise of vengeance hidden in its depths… vengeance if he didn’t bring Spike safely home.  
  
Angel nodded and then both men headed for the door. Spike didn’t even kiss her. She was about to run to him and correct that when he stopped her short by turning and saying, “I’ll kiss ya when I get back.”  
  
“That better be a promise, mister.”  
  
“It is.”  
  
And then they were gone.  
  
Willow sat down on the couch and turned on the TV, hoping something could distract her from the terrible scenarios competing for the chance to play out in her brain.  
  
Sadly, cable wasn’t cooperating. Action films? No help, since all violence did was remind her of what was taking place out there in the dark and car crashes only reminded her of Buffy’s bad driving, which was just as unhelpful considering how thinking about Buffy immediately segued into the guilt she felt because she was keeping big secrets from her best friend. Romance? Yeah, just what she needed when she was thinking about the danger the love of her life was in. Comedies? Not so much with the sense of humour right now. And as for tear-jerkers, no she didn’t actually need to add more fuel to her own depressed fire tonight. Couldn’t there be some nice, dry documentary on right now? Something to do with manufacturing, maybe?  
  
No, it turned out there couldn’t be, so she headed up to Angel’s room to borrow back Siddhartha. It had bored her to distraction once so there was every hope that it would do it again.  
  
She made sure to move quietly so as not to wake Connor. He looked so innocent, sleeping peacefully, oblivious to the danger his father was in. What would happen if…?  
  
Great, now she was worried about _Angel_. But there was good reason, wasn’t there? What would happen if Angel were dusted? Who would raise Connor? Pay for stuff, like food and clothes and education and…  
  
Oh goddess! She’d forgotten all about Dawn’s hospital bill – the bill that there was no way Buffy could afford to pay. Buffy could lose her house over this, couldn’t she? Why hadn’t she talked about this with Angel this afternoon? There’d been time. There’d been plenty of time. But no, she’d wasted the whole day distracting herself by scoffing at Tom Cruise’s bad dye job.   
  
She barely managed to hold in her tears, but she was somehow able to get back to her room and close the door before she burst into sobs. Bad friend. Bad Willow.   
  
  
  
It had only been about two hours when she heard clumping and clattering at the front door, the thud of heavy footsteps and the sound of… something dragging. Oh god! She leapt from her bed and raced downstairs.   
  
Angel was there… and so was Spike, only he was covered in blood and unconscious on the floor. “What happened?” she cried, not even thinking about the sleeping baby upstairs, “I thought you said he wasn’t going to be hurt!”  
  
“We had to lure Warren out, and I wasn't able to fight him at first because…”  
  
“Magic,” Willow finished for him, “Warren was using magic.” Which made sense of the energy she could feel crackling around him. It was all she could do to hold in her rage, mostly at herself. She should have foreseen this. But no, first she left town and then she didn’t keep abreast of what the trio were up to. “This is all my fault,” she choked out as she knelt down beside Spike, who looked even worse than he had after being tortured by Glory.  
  
There was one question she had yet to ask but Angel answered it anyway. “He paid.” His choice of words was slightly odd and the menace in his tone begged to be questioned as to specifics, but Willow didn’t care about anything right now except for saving Spike. Angel seemed to have the same concerns. “Let’s get him upstairs so I can wash him off and see what the damage is.”  
  
She was about to help do just that when something occurred to her. “He’ll need blood. Should I go heat some up?”  
  
Angel shook his head. “I’ll take care of it.” Willow swallowed hard, knowing what that meant: Angel would be giving him _his_ blood. She was too frantic over Spike’s condition to be jealous of that intimacy, however, so she helped him lift Spike up and get him upstairs and into her bathroom. Her shower was decent-sized – bigger than the one at the hotel, that was for sure – and they could get him in and clean him up without risking waking the baby the way they would if they used the shower in her parents’ bathroom.  
  
Stripping Spike’s clothes off was nowhere near as pleasurable as it usually was; he was covered in wounds of all kinds, including at least two horrible-looking burns and a puncture wound that seemed to have missed his heart by a millimeter. “The bastard was toying with him,” Angel said softly through gritted teeth.  
  
“How did you… I mean, I’m glad, I just…” Judging by all this damage, Warren was incredibly powerful and Willow couldn’t figure out how they got away, let alone how Angel got the upper hand, and she turned to him with wide eyes.  
  
“Spike and I talked about what it was like – back when you were doing it wrong, going to that magic dealer… how you’d crash and need more. I … _we_ banked on Warren having no natural power, so it would be even worse for him, and he’d drain faster. Spike provoked him into using more and more and… he crashed. Hard.”  
  
Okay, that made sense, after all… Wait a minute. They’d known? About the magic? And neither of them had thought that maybe they should ask Tara to babysit and take along, oh, say, a powerful witch? Just then, Spike groaned and Willow couldn’t focus on her anger. All that mattered to her was fixing him. Instinct had already told her not to try a healing spell - she was far too upset to use magic – so a shower and sire’s blood were going to have to be at least a good start.  
  
Spike was naked now and Willow went and turned on the water, waiting for it to get to a comfortable warm. Once it was, she turned around and… “Eek!” Spike wasn’t the only naked vampire in this bathroom. But if she thought seeing Angel’s – admittedly attractive – nude body was the last shock she was in for…   
  
“Get your clothes off,” he said. “Spike needs you too.”  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	42. Chapter 42

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Forty-Two)  
  
  
  
“Get your clothes off. Spike needs you too.”  
  
What? Angel wanted her to… with _him_? It had been years since she was a dorky high school nerd who blushed at the drop of a hat, but Angel’s suggestion had her flaming from head to toe.   
  
Then she looked at her love.   
  
Okay, if Angel said she needed to be in there with him, she wasn’t going to argue. Not like she knew everything there was to know about vamp healing and with her magic a no-no for the time being…  
  
She stripped off her clothes as fast as she could, no art or performance involved, and tried to ignore the fact that Angel was staring as she helped him guide Spike into the shower with them.  
  
It wasn’t the first time she’d watched blood swirl down the drain, but it was definitely the most wrenching, and Spike’s eyes were still closed, the only sign of life being the occasional groan… and the fact that dust hadn’t joined the blood on the floor of her shower. “What do we do?” she asked, feeling panicked.  
  
Angel didn’t answer; instead, he pulled Spike’s face to his neck and said, in an unexpectedly soft voice, “Drink.” He looked oddly vulnerable, neck stretched, awaiting a bite… but nothing was happening… until something did.  
  
Was it instinct? Did a vampire sense when family was offering blood? Willow forgot her nudity as she watched Spike’s face change and his fangs sink into Angel’s neck.   
  
It was almost… no, not almost – it _was_ erotic, especially when Spike’s arms wound around Angel and the bite deepened. There were moans from both vampires as their arms tightened around each other. Angel’s face changed as he seemed to get lost in the feeling. Willow looked down… she shouldn’t have looked down. Both men were hard.  
  
Why was she here?   
  
Well, Spike was healing, that was easy to see. Before her eyes, gaping red wounds paled to pink slashes and it was clear Spike was regaining consciousness, even though his eyes stayed closed as he remained wrapped in his sire’s embrace under the spray. Willow shivered; she was definitely feeling the chill, not all of it from being outside the range of the warm water.  
  
But as much as it hurt her, the way he responded to Angel, what was more important was that he was okay – or getting that way. Still, there _was_ the emotional pain.   
  
Just as she thought about slipping away, however, Spike’s teeth left Angel’s neck and his eyes opened, gold fading to blue. He was still hard. “Love?” His voice was soft, almost indistinct… but he was looking at her.   
  
“I’m here.”   
  
Oh goddess. While he wasn’t strong enough to say anything more, the look in his eyes… he was pleading with her to come to him. So she did.  
  
Ignoring the fact that he was being supported by Angel, she kissed him, letting all the love and passion she felt flow out of herself and into him. “Need you,” he gasped when her lips finally left his. He was still weak, though, far too weak for… even if she _was_ willing to do it in front of Angel…  
  
Angel, whose eyes still glowed gold as he nearly growled, “He needs you.”   
  
She was confused and then her hand drifted down… down to where Spike was still hard and aching.   
  
But if his spirit was willing, his flesh – most of it anyway – was weak. Angel was still holding him up. What should she…?   
  
Without thinking, she realized she had dropped to her knees. She was about to… oh goddess. Angel was right, though; Spike needed this connection with her – she could feel it – so instead of worrying about the fact that there was an audience, she slowly took Spike into her mouth. She closed her eyes, not thinking about what had aroused him, concentrating instead on how much she loved him, how much she wanted to replace the pain he’d suffered with the pleasure she could bring him.   
  
It wasn’t long at all before she found the right rhythm. “That’s it. Just like that.”  
  
Only it wasn’t Spike’s voice she heard. She looked up… into Angel’s eyes. He was staring down with undisguised lust as her mouth worked Spike’s length. Strangely, she found herself becoming excited by having this audience. Spike’s eyes were closed and he was leaning back against Angel, whose hands were now moving over his chest. Was he…? He was. Angel was thrusting against Spike, whether consciously or unconsciously, Willow couldn’t tell. She closed her eyes again, one hand moving between her own legs as her arousal became almost painful. Through it all, she never stopped pleasing Spike, and she moaned around his cock in her mouth as she climbed toward the same release she was about to provide him. At last she heard him. “Yeah, love. Yeah.” At that moment, she came, just as Spike spilled himself down her throat… and she could hear Angel cry out his own pleasure along with them.  
  
And there it was. That feeling of completion she hadn’t had with Spike when they’d made love.  
  
The realization would have knocked her over if she hadn’t already been on her knees. As it was, she merely crumpled further and leaned against the shower wall, watching as Angel rinsed off, then guided Spike out of the shower; marveling as her lover was able to stand on his own a moment later. Only then did she notice that the water had gone lukewarm and her teeth were chattering. Before she could get up, Angel had turned off the water and helped her up. He handed her a towel. “We should talk.”  
  
Spike shook his head. “Later.” He reached out to her and she took his hand as he told Angel, “Go tend your son. I’ll be all right now." His voice wasn't quite strong enough to make those last words believable, and for a second or two, it seemed that Angel might protest, but then he nodded and silently left the room. She could hear his footsteps heading down the hall.  
  
So much had happened tonight that her head was reeling and she had no idea what to do or say.   
  
Teeth! She needed to brush her teeth, right? She headed for the medicine cabinet and grabbed her toothbrush as if it were a magic wand, capable of making everything make sense again. Spike leaned against the door jamb, watching as she scrubbed at her teeth as though she were trying to scrape barnacles off of them. Even she realized the strange futility of what she was doing and she stopped, rinsed her mouth, and put things right back where they belonged. Orderly bathroom, orderly mind? If only.  
  
Spike came up behind her, putting his arms around her waist. “I love you,” he said softly.  
  
It was true, and she knew it, but she also knew that things were so much more complicated now. What she’d felt tonight… Spike had felt it too. What was going to happen tomorrow? And then there was Warren. Whatever had been done to him, there could be fallout. What _had_ been done, anyway? How would she feel if she learned that he’d been tortured? How did she feel about Spike and Angel keeping secrets the way they had?  
  
Her head was so noisy with thought that she was surprised when she heard Spike’s voice a moment later as he repeated, “I love you.”  
  
“I love you too,” she said, as if it could make everything all right.   
  
But it couldn’t, could it?  
  
For all that she could feel his touch, when she looked in the mirror, Spike wasn’t there.  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	43. Chapter 43

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Forty-Three)  
  
  
  
Spike was fast asleep, still weakened by his injuries and… other stuff, but Willow was restless and fretful and her mind was noisy with thought. Probably not surprising, but definitely inconvenient. The last thing she wanted to do was wake up Spike, so instead of lying here and risking disturbing a creature whose senses could pick up things like tension even while he slept, she edged carefully out of bed, put on a robe, and crept quietly downstairs to the kitchen…  
  
…where she ran into the last person she wanted to see: Angel.  
  
Well, it was too late now, so she nodded at him and went to the refrigerator, deciding that a glass of milk might be soothing. At least she wouldn’t have to talk if her mouth was full, right? Unfortunately, before she could even open the fridge, Angel had his hand on her arm. “We should talk,” he said in a low but firm tone.  
  
He was right and she hated him for it, but that didn’t make him any less right. “Yeah.” So she let him guide her to the kitchen table and she sat opposite him.  
  
“I’m sorry.” Okay, that was an opening gambit she hadn’t expected, and she wasn’t sure what he was apologizing for, so she waited to see if he’d explain. He did. “I know that you’re probably upset because we didn’t tell you that we suspected Warren had some powerful magic at his disposal.” Probably? Yeah right, mister. Make that a ‘definitely’ and you’d be right on the money. They could have asked Tara to babysit Connor, after all. She’d already proven she could be trusted and was on board with anything when it came to Dawn. Why hadn’t he just...?  
  
Angel had more to say. “I know you don’t agree, but given the circumstances… we weren’t sure what you’d do if Spike were endangered, whether you’d take too big a risk and… Warren was working off of drained power from other sources and we didn’t want to chance him being able to take yours. How could we have stopped him then? So we decided that you should stay behind. That way, if Spike and I failed, you’d be here to protect the others.”  
  
Oh. Willow could feel the anger leaking out of her like air from a balloon. What he said, after all, made sense, and she had to admit it. She still didn’t like the fact that Spike had been so horribly injured though. “You told me…”  
  
Her words were stopped by Angel reaching across the table and putting a finger to her lips. “I told you I’d bring him home to you. And I did.”  
  
Was he serious? Oh well. Be that as it may, while he’d kept to the letter of his promise, he’d fallen down on the spirit aspect. She didn’t have the strength for an argument, however, so she decided to let the matter drop. Besides, she was still feeling all sorts of difficult emotions about something else that had happened tonight.  
  
Naturally, Angel brought it up. “What happened in the shower tonight… “ His hand was now touching her cheek and she wanted to draw back; his eyes held her still. “Tell me it didn’t feel right – the three of us.”  
  
As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t, because… it _had_ felt right. She’d felt whole and completely connected, not just to Angel, but more connected than she had in a while to _Spike_. How could that be?  
  
There was a big question, though, and it was one that made a repeat very unlikely. “What about your soul?” It seemed impossible that Angel hadn’t thought about that issue even before she did, but he seemed caught off-guard and her level of anxiety rose accordingly. “Didn’t you think about that?” How could he _not_ think about that?  
  
He seemed to be thinking about _something_ now as his brow furrowed in that familiar way Spike always mocked. A strange sort of… something overtook his countenance. Was it peace? No, but it was swimming in the same gene pool and that seemed utterly incongruous to Willow at a time like this. She said nothing, waiting for him to explain. It felt as if hours passed, though she knew it was only a moment or two, before he did. “I didn’t feel any danger,” he said at last and there was an intangible undertone in his voice.   
  
She pondered his words for a moment – long and lingering – rolling them over and over like marbles, seeing colours and shadows as if each syllable were a crystal ball or a scrying mirror. Unlike when he’d made love to her best friend, or even with Darla, it meant something – this sense of safety. Was this what Lorne had been trying to tell them?  
  
His voice broke through her thoughts. “I would never put you at risk.” For a moment she was disconcerted by his omission of Spike’s name, but then again, after tonight’s events… yes, claiming he’d never risk Spike’s safety would ring as hollow as Harmony’s head.  
  
“It shouldn’t have happened.”  
  
“Are you sure about that?” His hand was over hers now on the table in front of her.   
  
What was she supposed to say? She was sure in her head, but that didn’t make the confusion go away. There was one thing, though, clear, shining and true. “I love Spike.” That was the all the explanation she should have to make, wasn’t it?  
  
Angel at least understood what she meant. “I know.” But the silence that followed didn’t feel final… and it wasn’t. “You can’t deny there’s something between us. Between all three of us.”  
  
Yes she could. She’d be lying, but she could. Instead of doing that, however, she decided to stop this conversation dead in its tracks. It was time for her to go back upstairs, overwrought or no. “I can’t talk about this anymore. Not without Spike.”  
  
She got up, intending to do just as she’d told herself she would, when Angel grabbed her arm. Unfortunately, it wasn’t because he had something else to say. Instead, he pulled her to him and kissed her.  
  
This was so sneaky and underhanded and unfair of him. Much to her shame, his tactics were working. Rather than pull away, she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him back, all the desire she’d felt in that not-so-long-ago shower coming right back… This was wrong… except that it didn’t feel that way. Well, other than the part where Spike wasn’t here to join in the fun… Wait a minute – did she just think of this as _fun_? Because she hadn’t even dealt with the part where she was doing this with the man Buffy still loved.   
  
Did Spike feel guilty too? Or would he when he got his strength back?  
  
Whether he did or he didn’t, Willow sure did. Which reminded her… She pushed away from Angel, breaking off the kiss, and said, “We have to help Buffy.”  
  
The extremely puzzled look on his face made sense, considering the fact that he hadn’t been a passenger on her train of thought, so Willow hastened to explain her seeming _non sequitur_. “Dawn’s medical bills. They have to be huge. How is Buffy supposed to pay them?” Okay, that was sort of an explanation, though it fell short of clarifying how exactly she’d gotten from kissing Angel to Buffy’s finances.  
  
Thankfully, Angel seemed willing to overlook the lapses. “I can help,” he said calmly, confirming her suspicion that the agency wasn’t exactly his main source of income.   
  
She was about to ask how much he could spare and how they were going to manage giving the money to Buffy when there was a loud knock at the front door. Oh gosh! Who could it be this late?  
  
Angel was right beside her as she hurried to the foyer. Without thinking, or asking who it was, she unlocked and opened the door. Oh no. This was not going to be good.  
  
“Buffy. What are you doing here? Is something wrong?”  
  
The glare she was getting from her best friend told her the answer to that even before Buffy spoke, but when she did… “Giles is at the house with Dawn. I told him I was going to do some recon…” She paused, taking a deep breath – which was good. Since Willow couldn’t seem to breathe for herself, maybe Buffy would loan her some air.  
  
Or not, considering what she said next. “The police came to the house a little while ago and… They found Warren. Or what was left of him. Lucky for me I had a solid alibi. I need to know – were you responsible?”  
  
Willow’s first thought? Since when did the police do actual police work in Sunnydale? But her second thought? How on Earth were they going to handle this?  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	44. Chapter 44

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Forty-Four)  
  
  
  
“The police came to the house a little while ago and… They found Warren. Or what was left of him. Lucky for me I had a solid alibi. I need to know – were you responsible?”  
  
Buffy was looking straight at Willow as she spoke and Willow froze like a… no, not a deer. Anything but a deer. The memory was still fresh and deeply painful. But she was frozen like some other animal that became paralyzed when faced with a large automobile bearing down on them. Luckily for her, whatever non-ruminant animal she was frozen like, Angel spoke up. “Willow’s been here all night. With us.”  
  
Oh. Okay. So she was providing _them_ with an alibi as well. She could do that. Lying wasn’t so hard. She’d done it before… heck, she was doing it now.   
  
Of course, it also destroyed her peace of mind, but hey, what were a few sleepless nights among… friends?   
  
Buffy was staring – no, she was searching Willow’s eyes for any signs of prevarication. Willow cleared her mind, forcing herself to think of kittens and babies and any other innocent things. No guilt… no guilt… no guilt…  
  
It must have worked, because Buffy’s gaze softened as Willow finally added, “We’ve been here. All four of us.” She made sure to include Connor in the count. That made it sound much more plausible, right?  
  
“Guess we weren’t the only enemies he had,” Buffy said thoughtfully.  
  
“Gosh no! A guy like that. I mean, hey, even back in school nobody liked him.” That reminder seemed to settle the matter. Buffy was thoroughly convinced. Willow swallowed her sigh of relief and stepped back, intending to invite Buffy to sit down in the living room, but instead her friend gave her a hug that seemed a lot like a goodbye.  
  
It was. “I better get home. Giles is waiting.” As she let go, she said softly, “I’m sorry. I know you’d never…”  
  
“It’s okay.” Well, Buffy was right: Willow _hadn’t_ done anything. So it wasn’t like she was accepting an apology to which she wasn’t entitled. So why did she still feel like a hypocrite, a fraud, and a really bad friend?  
  
Buffy’s shoulders were slumped in fatigue and Willow figured that exhaustion, as much or more than her own guile and craft, had helped them convince her of their innocence so easily. That didn’t exactly help make her feel better. Too bad now wasn’t the right time to tell her that Angel had promised to help with the hospital bill that had to be looming large in the landscape of her cares and woes. “Good night,” Buffy said as she headed back out the door.   
  
Willow had to admit she was concerned about Buffy’s safety – even Slayers could get hurt when they were too tired and consequently unwary – and she was incredibly glad when, a moment later, Angel said, “I’ll follow her home” before slipping out into the night after her.  
  
How long she’d been standing, lost in thoughts on which she couldn’t focus enough to even remember, staring at the front door, she couldn’t have figured out with a computer program, but she was startled out of her fog-shrouded reverie by a voice. “You all right?”  
  
She almost jumped, but she didn’t. She’d hate to seem scared of Spike. He for sure would take it the wrong way, given everything that had happened tonight. Turning to where he stood at the foot of the stairs, she answered, “I’m fine. Buffy was here.” He looked surprised, which made sense, so she explained. “The police found Warren’s body and what with him being wanted for attempting to murder Dawn and all, they kinda assumed Buffy might have something to do with it.”  
  
“And she thought you did, eh?”  
  
Willow shrugged. “She’s pretty worn out. I think she was just trying to figure it out.” Spike seemed concerned and she added, “Angel told her we were here all night.”  
  
“Did he now?”  
  
“Uh huh.” She nodded as she spoke. “He followed her home too. She’s so tired. He – we – wanted to makes sure she was safe.”  
  
Now Spike was the one who nodded and he seemed glad. “Yeah. She’s got to be off her game with all of this.” He paused for a moment, seeming sad and thoughtful. “Guess we never thought about the repercussions, you know? The police aren’t as oblivious as they used to be. Hope none of this comes back on Buffy. She’s been through enough.”  
  
His concern for Buffy was touching, and Willow went to him, pulling him into an embrace. It was then that she realized he wasn’t all the way healed yet; she could feel him tremble slightly with the effort of standing. “You need to be back in bed,” she chided, guiding him back towards the staircase.  
  
He turned to her and asked softly, “Come with me then? Please?”  
  
That ‘please’ nearly broke her. “I love you.” With those words, she helped him upstairs and into bed again. Then she took off her robe and joined him. “Are we gonna be okay?” she asked after lying in his arms for a long moment.  
  
Looking up into his eyes, she waited. Even in the dark, she could somehow see the motion of thought behind his eyes. “You and me? We’re always gonna be okay. No matter what. You hear me?”  
  
That wasn’t what she meant… or maybe it was, because what she asked next was, “What about Angel?”  
  
She could feel Spike sigh even before she heard the soft exhalation of air – not breath, sometimes she had to remind herself of that. “It’s complicated. Now more than ever, I s’pose.” He had that right, that was for sure.  
  
“You liked it, huh?” Her eyes were still fixed on his and again, there was the glitter of wheels turning in the dark that almost hid his blue eyes. What was he going to say?  
  
“Yeah, I liked it,” he admitted as he leaned in and kissed her sweetly on the forehead. “Like I said, it’s complicated. He’s my sire – my real sire, anyway. Dru wasn’t exactly cut out for teaching a vampire the skills and all.” For a moment he stopped speaking and Willow knew he was remembering. “You’re first with me, love, and you always will be.” Then he took her by surprise by asking, “Did you like it? Him there with us? Watching while you sucked me off?”  
  
What was she supposed to say to that?   
  
Spike hadn’t lied to her, so she didn’t lie to him. “Yeah, I liked it. It felt…”  
  
“Right,” Spike finished for her, his voice full of clouds and uncertainty, just like she felt.  
  
“What does it mean?” she asked, not sure she even wanted to know.  
  
“Not sure.” Another sigh. “Guess it doesn’t matter much. We seem to be nothing but pawns in the hands of those bloody Powers anymore. I s’pose it’s better that if we have to be all bound up together, at least Angel gets a bit of fun out of the deal.” His attempt to be flippant and casual didn’t fool her any better than it fooled him, she was certain of that, but she let it pass.  
  
“You need rest,” she said, ending the discussion.  
  
The sound of Angel's return, the front door softly opening and closing downstairs, went unacknowledged by them both. Instead, Willow settled against Spike, their bodies fitting together as perfectly as they always did. “Don’t leave me,” he said and maybe he was talking about the rest of the night… or maybe he wasn’t.  
  
“I won’t.” That was truth, no matter what.  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	45. Chapter 45

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Forty-Five)  
  
  
It was morning - well, almost afternoon - when Willow awoke again. She’d slept dreamlessly, but somehow she didn’t feel rested. Spike’s head was nestled in the crook of her neck. “Morning, love.”  
  
“How long have you been awake?”  
  
She could feel him shrug. “A while. I like listening to your heartbeat while you sleep.” That very heart swelled as he spoke, the love in those words making her ache.   
  
“I like it when you listen.”  
  
He was over her now, kissing her, clear intent in the movement of his hands on her body. “Are you … I mean…”  
  
“I’m more than able, love.” As if to prove the truth of his words, he took her hand and guided it to his cock, hard and ready. No, she wasn’t going to argue with the evidence of his capacity to make love to her. Instead, she gave herself over to him, returning kiss for kiss and caress for caress.   
  
But, either because she was still mindful of last night’s injuries or simply because she wanted to be in control of the chaos for at least a little while, she surprised him by rolling him onto his back and moving astride him before taking him inside her.  
  
It was only now that the full weight of what she’d almost lost hit her and, even as she rode him, even as her body lifted toward ecstasy, she began to cry. “I love you,” she repeated over and over, barely able to hear him repeating those very words through the sound of her own voice and the storm of her own tears.  
  
How many times had she told him? She didn’t know. All she knew was that he had just spilled himself inside her, calling out her name, before she joined him in release… and there it was, that same feeling of completion she’d had last night, only this time they were…  
  
Not alone. Out of the corner of her eye she caught him, watching through the opening of a door left slightly ajar. Angel was there.  
  
She climbed off of Spike, feeling empty the moment he was no longer inside her, and covered herself with the sheet. Sure, Angel had seen her naked before, but modest habits died hard.   
  
“Might as well come in,” Spike sighed. “Not like you’re all that deft of a hand at stealth these days.” The door opened and Angel did indeed come in just as Spike snarked, “Enjoy the show?”  
  
“You’re beautiful,” he said… looking straight at Spike.  
  
Spike said nothing, but unlike Willow, he made no effort to cover himself. Did he enjoy Angel’s admiration, for once unclouded by the years of antagonism that usually marred their smallest exchange? Guess last night had really altered things… and that meant more than just what the three of them had shared in the shower.  
  
This might be a really awkward and strange time to be asking but… “What did you guys do to Warren?”  
  
The look on Angel’s face read confusion for a moment, but Spike knew her and the way her mind worked too well and didn’t miss a beat as he answered bitterly, “Not enough.”  
  
Angel’s clouded expression was agreement with that sentiment. “We didn’t have time and taking him somewhere… it didn’t work out the way I…,” he paused and nodded at Spike apologetically, “the way _we_ had intended. I settled for ripping his heart out. It was the last thing he ever saw.” His matter of fact tone and the shrug with which he concluded his recitation belied the gory image his words set to swimming before Willow’s eyes. Not that Warren didn’t deserve that and more… still, the brutality of it was startling. Guess now it made more sense than ever that the police accepted Buffy’s alibi so readily, though. She didn’t much look like a girl who could rip a guy’s internal organs out, especially if you didn’t know she was the Slayer.  
  
Not having any idea what to say, Willow sat silent for a moment before finally settling on “Oh,” as about the best response under the circumstances.  
  
“He was dangerous,” Spike said, taking her hand. “He wasn’t gonna stop.”   
  
Again, Willow thought for a moment. It was true, wasn’t it? The fact that he was using borrowed power and had unsavory… “Did he get help from Rack?” she asked softly, hating the taste of that name on her tongue. She felt dirty and awful all over again. _Strawberry_. She could almost hear his voice, feel him inside her mind.   
  
“Yes.” Angel’s answer was terse and Spike glared at him, but Willow was glad he hadn’t coddled her. She needed to know, didn’t she?  
  
It occurred to her that Rack was another danger they might need to deal with before going home, but she wasn’t sure she should say anything. Would her goddess, or those Powers for that matter, forgive them for what had been done to Warren… or was it all part of this destiny in which they’d been trapped after all?  
  
Goddess was Willow confused and unsettled. She wondered if chess pieces ever felt like this, wondering where they would be moved and why and wishing they had some sort of say in the play of the game.   
  
Spike was still naked.  
  
Angel was still standing just a foot or two away, looming over them like something dark and dangerous… and oh… he was hard. Which she knew because she was looking at that part of his body when she shouldn’t.   
  
She needed to talk to her goddess again – she knew that – but somehow she wasn’t making excuses or starting a new topic of conversation and when Angel approached the bed… no, she did nothing to stop him when he sat down and reached for Spike.  
  
Within the span of a second the two men were kissing with the familiarity of old lovers – which they were. They were beautiful, and the spectacle of the two of them – touching each other, mouths against mouths, hands roaming over bodies – was undeniably erotic. Willow couldn’t help but become aroused even as she also felt a spark of jealousy and fear… especially when Spike undid Angel’s trousers, freeing his cock.  
  
Wow. It was bigger than she remembered. Of course she’d never really seen it when it was…   
  
Without warning, Spike took her hand and pulled it right to that very part of Angel’s anatomy. What…? “The three of us,” he said and somehow everything made sense. As her hand joined her lover’s in stroking Angel, she knew – rationally – that she should be worrying about the return of Angelus, but somehow she wasn’t. It felt right, and she trusted in that as she watched Angel’s eyes flicker to gold as she and Spike touched him, their movements slow and torturous, building his pleasure but not allowing him to get where he wanted to go – not right away, anyway.  
  
He hissed and Willow looked at Spike, who leaned in and kissed her softly. “Think we could keep this up all day?” he quipped, chuckling when Angel growled through gritted teeth.   
  
She leaned down against Angel’s chest, flicking her tongue against his nipple, her hand still loosely stroking his cock. “Please,” he groaned and it was a glorious feeling – that sense of power. So much better than anything she’d known in her days of dark magic. Then Spike’s hand was over hers and he guided her in a faster rhythm. Within moments, Angel cried out, body jerking in ecstasy as he came over their entwined fingers.  
  
When it was done, his eyes opened – brown and soft and soulful. “Mine,” he said.  
  
It was meant for both of them and she and Spike knew it.   
  
This was what the Powers had set in motion and now it was done.   
  
Of course what was left was the difficult part.  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	46. Chapter 46

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Forty-Six)  
  
  
Willow and Spike followed Angel to the room he was sharing with his son, watching as he tended to the little boy. Angel changing diapers and cooing softly to an infant was still an incongruous sight to Willow; she could only imagine how much more so it must be to Spike, who’d known him for over a century. “He looks like you,” she said, for no real reason except that the silence felt strange and this was the first thing she could think of to say.  
  
“Thank you.” The smile on Angel’s face was eerily beatific and pure. In that moment, he reminded her of Joyce – of the way Joyce had looked when she gazed at Buffy or Dawn. How would Joyce feel about that? About being compared to the man she had felt so ambivalent about? She’d always liked Spike so much more.   
  
“Yeah. Gotta pity the boy,” Spike quipped, and while it killed the sweetness of the atmosphere, it also made things feel a lot more normal, so Willow merely gave him a soft jab to the arm and then cuddled against him. He was always going to be exactly who he was… and that was why she loved him so much.  
  
Maybe Angel felt the same way, because the glowering expression on his face was clearly exaggerated, a role played because it was expected of him. It was all part of the Spike and Angel Show.   
  
There might have been a bit more banter, but the phone rang. Willow raced to her room to answer it. Only a few people knew she was here and the likelihood of this call being urgent was high. “Hello?”  
  
“Willow?”   
  
Cordelia? “Yeah, it’s me. I can go get…”  
  
“No, you’re the one in my vision.”   
  
The what in…? “You had a vision about me?”  
  
The hand holding the receiver shook and a chill went up her spine as Willow listened to what Cordelia had to say. Guess her concern earlier had been right on… and she was going to have to deal with this one on her own.   
  
When Cordelia was done, Willow asked if she wanted to speak to Angel, but to her surprise, she said no. She also didn’t seem too eager for any further conversation. Was something going on in Los Angeles? Something none of Angel’s crew wanted them to know? Oh goddess, what were Wolfram & Hart up to now? It didn’t look like Willow was going to find out any time soon, because after a hasty goodbye, Cordelia hung up. Great. As if the vision wasn’t enough to worry about.  
  
Should she say something to Angel? That was her first impulse, but… something told her not to, that she needed everyone around her to be grounded for the time being. So she hung up the phone and took a deep, calming breath. Lives were at stake, as was that balance she was supposed to help preserve.  
  
Plastering a calm smile on her face and hoping she’d be better than usual at concocting a plausible cover story, she headed back to the master bedroom. “Colleague of my Mom’s,” she said with a shrug. “There’s some change in the date of the conference she’s supposed to speak at in September and she figured I could give her the information. Not like I could explain that Mom and I barely speak anymore.”   
  
Boy did she feel guilty when Spike immediately gave her a warm, comforting hug. She hated lying to him, especially since she was being such a complete hypocrite. Hadn’t she gotten mad at him and Angel for lying to her about pretty much exactly the same thing she was about to do? Well, it was all going to be even because when this was over she expected to get hit with both barrels by the two of them, so she guessed that made it okay… right?  
  
Probably not, but that didn’t change her mind, mostly because she knew she had no choice.   
  
Now, however, she had to think of her second untruth in as many minutes, some plausible reason to go gallivanting around before nightfall. Luckily, she recalled an errand she actually _was_ going to need to run soon and Spike’s sense of smell would more than likely back her up. Her scent always changed shortly before... “I have to go to the store,” she said. “Can you guys get along without me for a little while?”  
  
“What do you need, love?”   
  
“Girl stuff.” He inhaled and nodded. Great. Thank you to her cycle for helping her out.  
  
Angel nodded as well and added, “I’m going to call and make arrangements to pay the hospital bill.”  
  
“Thanks,” she and Spike replied in unison, and she giggled, hopefully not nervously.   
  
“I’m going to get going. We should probably go over to Buffy’s tonight, see everybody, act like…”  
  
“Like Angel and I didn’t kill a man?”  
  
“That’s not what I meant.”  
  
“’S’okay, love.” He pulled her close and kissed her cheek. She needed to leave _now_ … before she broke down and admitted the truth.  
  
“Thanks again, Angel,” she said, followed by “I’ll be back in a few,” which was pretty much a bald-faced lie, but it was daylight out so it wasn’t like they could go searching for her. She took a moment and kissed Spike softly then she hurried to her room, grabbed her purse, and left the house.   
  
Her first order of business was to center herself… and ask for forgiveness one more time. She hadn’t been to her destination since that day when she… but she knew the way and she got there quickly, jarringly so. It was beautiful, quiet and serene, the same as it had been when she’d been so selfish and shortsighted and…  
  
She sat at the edge of the pond, cross-legged, eyes closed, silent, even in her mind. Waiting. Just waiting. After a few moments, she opened her eyes… and there it was. A fawn. Not the one whose life she’d taken so cruelly, but somehow she knew it had been sent to her… to forgive her. It approached her as trustingly as the other one had, but this time Willow petted it gently and cried. “I’m sorry,” she said as it looked at her with such a placid, yet knowing expression. It understood somehow; she could tell. After another minute, it turned and went back into the trees, but it had left her a gift – the weapon she’d need for the battle ahead.   
  
Purity.  
  
She breathed deeply and put her hands on the soft ground, palms flat. “Thank you, Mother.”  
  
It was time. So she rose and strode purposefully into town. This journey too took so much less time than she expected, but maybe she _should_ have expected that. Here she was – an alley, walls on all sides, no doors… no signs of life. But Willow knew better. Without even checking to see if she was sure of where she was going, she walked right through… the wall of a building.  
  
Here she was. Ignoring everyone in the waiting room, she marched straight into the office where an old acquaintance was doing his work.   
  
Even as Willow walked in, he was shoving his customer away, not even sparing the poor thing a glance as she caromed off a wall before scuttling out the door. “Strawberry.” Rack smiled. That mirthless, deceitful, serpentine smile.  
  
She shook, tremors traveling along every inch of her body. “I need…”  
  
“I know. Heard about Warren. I had a hunch you had something to do with that. You must need some juice, huh? It’s been awhile, but I know you know what I want.”  
  
“I… I know.” She did. So she stood, letting him reach out to take that old familiar tour, the one that took from her far more than he ever gave back, as she sent off waves of desire and energy. He was connected to her now…  
  
And the trap sprang shut.   
  
She could _feel_ his shock and the mute agony as he was devoured by that purity she’d regained, by her connection to true magic, the kind that came from nature and not from the place of cruelty and lies from which he drew his power. He tried to pull away, but these chains couldn’t be broken. His pain grew and he burned from the inside. Would she be taken with him? She didn’t know, but she knew that even if she was, this was what needed to be done and she accepted it.   
  
There was an acrid stench. The end was near.  
  
She breathed in, closed her eyes… and it was done. When she opened her eyes, on the ground lay blackened bones and a skull with its mouth open in a final, terrified scream – in his last seconds, he’d seen what awaited him.   
  
As for Willow, she was exhausted, barely able to stand. Would she be able to wade through the hordes of magic junkies or… Suddenly, she – and they – were all back in the alley. Okay. That was good. That was very good. Because in the confusion and the din as everyone was asking each other what had happened, Willow managed to slip away.  
  
With the last bit of strength she had, she managed to stumble home. Without tampons. Maybe she’d be able to pretend they’d been out of her brand or something. Unfortunately, the moment she walked in the door? Willow collapsed. The last thing she heard was Spike calling her name.  
  
  
  
To be continued...


	47. Chapter 47

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Forty-Seven)  
  
  
  
It took Willow a few seconds to realize her eyes were even open when she finally came to. When had her brain been replaced by cotton wool?   
  
Spike was holding her hand – that registered – and Angel was pacing… in game face. Oh gosh. How long had she been unconscious anyway? “Willow? Love?” Okay, Spike realized she was awake. Guess the whole opening her eyes thing was kind of a dead giveaway.   
  
“It’s me,” she said, amazed she was alert enough to even attempt to be breezy about the whole thing. Especially since she was in pain. It felt like tiny men with little anvils were hammering away at her bones. If it hadn’t been for such a good cause… “Rack is dead,” she offered, hoping to head the lecture she could feel brewing off at the pass.  
  
No such luck. In fact, she might have just made things even worse. Spike was glaring at her now as he growled, “You went after that bastard by yourself? Without telling me?”  
  
Angel was about to add something when Willow blurted out, “I was the only one in Cordelia’s vision.”  
  
Oops. That might not have been the right thing to say, she realized far too late, because Angel was still in game face and Spike’s eyes were gold. “You lied,” they said in unison, before exchanging a look. After that, Angel gestured and Spike continued, “That wasn’t a friend of your Mum’s on the phone, was it?”  
  
She shook her head – immediately regretting it when the guys with anvils set to work on her skull in response – and said, “Umm… no. It was Cordelia.” Doing her best to dredge up her Resolve Face from beneath the mountain of fatigue and pain weighing her down, she also used a whole lot of her minimal strength to push herself up into a sitting position. “Look, I know you guys are mad and I would be a hypocrite if I said you shouldn’t be, because I got mad at you for doing the exact same thing.” Spike was honest enough with himself to look a tiny bit sheepish at that. Angel, whose face was now back to normal, showed not a trace of a guilty conscience. Self-righteous jerk. “But her vision was really explicit. I had to do this alone.” Later on, when it was just her and Spike, she’d talk about the fawn and the peace she’d made with the Mother she’d wronged when she’d taken the life of another fawn and disrupted the order of things.   
  
“You should have told us.” Did Angel really say that? Even Spike raised an eyebrow and Willow fought not to roll her eyes.  
  
“Would you have let me go?”  
  
Spike shook his head. “You still shouldn’t have gone.”  
  
“Rack was the last thing that threatened the balance we’re supposed to be preserving.” She hadn’t intended to discuss the whys and wherefores of that, but the choice was taken out of her hands.  
  
“Because of those tours he used to take, right?” Okay, she guessed maybe she owed Spike the chance to be a little bit petty with her, but did he really have to bring that up?  
  
“Yeah,” she said, the word given a more than casual tone and delivered with a narrow-eyed expression.  
  
“Tours?” Oh great. Angel expected an explanation.  
  
At least Spike had the decency to look somewhat abashed as Willow closed her eyes and took a deep breath before answering. “It was the price you… I paid for magic. I let Rack take ‘tours’ through my mind. He always took a piece of me with him.” Suddenly, her eyes shot wide as she realized something. “I got it back. I got it all back,” she breathed. Because sure enough, there it all was – the pieces that had left only the knowledge of empty places when they’d been slipped from inside her. Those pieces that she now recognized as little slices of memory that had been gone without her having any idea exactly what they were – the picnic with Tara where she’d first realized she wanted to kiss her, a visit with her grandmother where the woman had told her she was her favorite… She burst into tears, hating herself for letting Rack take them in the first place.  
  
Within seconds Spike had his arms around her. “There, love. It’s all right now. It’s all right.” She felt the bed dip and saw Angel sitting beside them through watery eyes. It was all so much, so overwhelming, but one thing shone through – she’d won, hadn’t she? She’d destroyed Rack, saving herself and countless others caught in the same trap she’d once been in… and maybe the world, too.   
  
“I had to do this,” she said softly, hoping he’d understand. She could feel that he did, but it was Angel whose ‘I know’ was audible.   
  
“Forgive me?”  
  
This time Spike spoke out loud. “You know I do.”  
  
“At least he’s gone, right?”  
  
“Yeah. Guess I can’t fault ya for ridding the world of that bastard.” There was a ‘but’ at the end of that sentence and Willow knew that the only reason she wasn’t getting a patronizing talking-to with overtones of the 19th century from whence Spike came was the presence of Angel in the room. Every once in a while, Angel was kind of a godsend – or goddess-send, she amended.   
  
Then Angel asked a weird question. “Did Cordelia ask to speak to me?” Okay, not so much with the weird as the Willow-didn’t-exactly-expect-it, but still… Could she blame the cotton wool she could still feel between her ears?  
  
“Uh, no, actually, sorta the opposite.” She almost winced as she heard herself. Great. She so had not meant to say that.   
  
Angel’s eyes narrowed, but much to her shock, he didn’t ask her any questions. Instead, he shrugged and said, “We’ll be back in L.A. soon enough.” Still, the expression on his face was anything but casual. Oh goody. Cordelia was in for it and it was all Willow’s fault. She really needed to stop messing up Cordelia’s life. Sure, it was always unintentional, but that didn’t make it all right.  
  
“We need to go to Buffy’s tonight,” Willow said, before realizing there was something she kinda needed to know. “Umm… how long was I out?”  
  
“Too long,” Spike replied, his expression dark with the memory of the panic she’d caused him. As much as she would do everything the same if she had it to do all over again, she still felt guilty about putting him through all the worrying.  
  
“You were unconscious for about an hour. It’s only seven o’clock.”  
  
Oh. Gosh. That was pretty quick recovery time for a magical outlay of the magnitude of taking out Rack. Remind her to thank the goddess for that about a gazillion times. She was terrified she’d lost a whole day or something and how the heck would she explain that much time incommunicado to Buffy?   
  
Just then, a sound from the other room reminded them that someone else in this house had more pressing needs than Willow. Connor was crying. Angel immediately got up, but before he walked out the door, he turned and said, “We’ll go to Buffy’s in about half an hour. Say our goodbyes. We need to get back to Los Angeles.”  
  
Well, Angel wasn’t big on discussion, was he? She was about to say something when she realized he was right and just let him leave. Because there was a business that needed him – needed _them_ – and it was time to get back to it. One thing their visit had made Willow realize, much to her shock: this wasn’t home anymore.  
  
The door closed behind Angel and Spike pulled her into his arms before growling, “Don’t you dare ever scare me like that again.”  
  
She wanted to promise that she wouldn’t, but she couldn’t see the future, so she said, “I’ll try not to,” because that was all she could say without lying. Guess he understood because he didn’t confront her for her equivocation; he just held her close for a silent moment or two. After a time, Willow spoke. “Do you feel what I do?”  
  
He pulled back, giving her a quizzical look. Guess that was a pretty unspecific question, huh? So she explained. “It just…" Images of the awkward meetings at the hospital and even at Buffy's house flashed before her eyes, images of the way everyone else seemed to stay grouped away from her and Spike and Angel... "It feels like we’ve been away from here way longer than a few weeks. Like we don’t…”  
  
“Belong here anymore?” he finished. “Yeah, kinda got that feeling. Those Powers seem to cover all the bases, don’t they?”  
  
Spike seemed to blame the Powers That Be for everything he disliked anymore, but she couldn’t exactly argue. Maybe they _were_ the ones who had closed up the spaces where Willow and Spike had once fit so comfortably. “Yeah,” she softly agreed.   
  
As much as she’d already known they were going to be living in Los Angeles from now on, it still felt… sad, somehow, that it, not Sunnydale, would be home – would _feel_ like home. But there was nothing she could do about it, so she’d just have to adjust… to this among so many other things. “Wanna help me up?” she asked. “I should probably change before we go to Buffy’s.”  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	48. Chapter 48

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Forty-Eight)  
  
  
Here they were. At Buffy’s house. Dawn was safe, everyone had gotten plenty of sleep… and Buffy, Giles, Dawn, Xander, and Anya were all sitting together, facing Willow, Spike, and Angel – who had Connor in a carrier at his feet – on the opposite side of the living room. If Willow hadn’t been sure before, she was sure now – her space in Sunnydale had closed up tight, never to give way for her again.  
  
“So, how’s married life?” she asked awkwardly of Xander and Anya. What kind of question was that to ask of your best friend since kindergarten? And worse, what did it mean that she needed to ask it in the first place?  
  
Not even Anya’s cheerfully blunt reply could disperse the clouds in Willow’s mental sky, though it certainly entertained Spike by embarrassing nearly everyone else in the room. “It’s great. We have sex just as often and we’re just as creative as we were when we were just living together, which is such a relief, by the way. All the magazines say that’s never the case. Xander, can we sue them for mental distress? Because I was terrified and they have to owe me for that. At least refund the money I spent on their stupid magazines.”   
  
“Yes, well, I’m not sure that was quite what Willow was enquiring about,” Giles stammered. Guess he was too British to ever get used to Anya, though Spike’s kind of British didn’t seem to make risqué conversation a problem at all.   
  
Everyone seemed awkward still and no one was asking any questions of Willow. It was weird and she wondered if maybe it was because they all sensed that there were things they didn’t want to know… and maybe they didn’t want to force her to lie, though really, by not telling them, wasn’t she already lying?  
  
Of course, would it be any better, any more honourable to hurt them with the truth? Because she was pretty sure that Buffy would be devastated just by what she and Spike did with Angel this morning alone, let alone learning the truth about Warren or what Willow had done to Rack. It was bad enough that Buffy was clearly hurt by the fact that Angel had a child with someone who wasn’t her; she was staring at Connor like he was a dream someone had stolen from her. In a sense, Willow guessed, that was true, huh.   
  
And none of this even included the whole ‘immortality’ thing with which Willow was only beginning to deal.  
  
It seemed like the uncomfortable atmosphere was getting to Angel because he suddenly piped up with, “We’re going home tomorrow. Back to Los Angeles.”  
  
Xander seemed almost upset and he looked poised to say something, when Tara walked in. “Hi.”   
  
“Looks like you got here just in time. They’re leaving.” He really _was_ upset and Willow felt a genuine pang. For a moment she wondered… but then, no, she knew she had no choice.   
  
“Xander…”  
  
“No. I get it. You and Spike are off to live the glamourous life in L.A. Nice of you to let me know you were never coming back to stay.” With that, he stormed out into the kitchen. Anya nodded and Willow followed. Xander had gone out to the backyard, so she headed out the door to see him pacing in the moonlight.  
  
“Xan…”  
  
He stood, arms akimbo, glaring at her. “You said you were just going to be there for a few days.”   
  
“I know, it’s just… Things have changed, okay? They really need us there. L.A. is practically demon central now and we just thought that since Spike gets along so well with Gunn and nobody there is as good at research as me…”  
  
“What about Wesley?”   
  
Oh god. Did he really just ask that? “Wesley kind of… resigned.”  
  
“He was there yesterday when Cordelia called me to get your phone number.” What? Also… hadn’t Angel left her number with Cordy before they left? “I heard his creepy voice in the background and distinctly heard Cordelia tell him to shut up, which is always the right thing to say to Wesley, by the way. But as much as I still think he’s slimy and a borderline pedophile and would definitely never leave Dawn alone with him, he is pretty handy with the books.”  
  
It occurred to Willow that she’d just learned the answer to the question of Cordelia’s general weirdness on the phone. This wasn’t the time to think about that, though, because she had a Xander to deal with. “But what about the computer? Or do you think that I’m rusty at that? Because I’ll have you know…”  
  
To her shock, she was interrupted by Xander grabbing her and hugging her. “Please don’t go.”  
  
Why? Earlier, she’d at least had the feeling of displacement to make the inevitability of leaving Sunnydale forever easier, if not less painful, and now… Why? Why did Xander have to do this? Thanks so much, Powers That Be. “I have to, Xan,” she choked out as she clung to him.  
  
“Is it the magic?” Is what the what? Oh goddess. She let go of him and stepped back, trying hard to look confused instead of guilty. By the expression on his face, she kinda figured she hadn’t succeeded. Then he spoke again and erased all doubt. “Don’t worry. Pretty sure the others don’t have a clue, but Dawn and I were talking and… yeah, we sort of figured out that your mojo is the reason she’s all back to normal.” She was about to try and explain when he stopped her. “Look, I’m not going to say anything, but you need to know something: I trust you. You’re Willow. That’s enough for me. So if you’re doing magic again, I gotta figure that you learned from your mistakes and it’s all okay now. Saving Dawn sure wasn’t evil.”  
  
No one had ever given Xander the credit he was due. His logic might be, by many standards, shaky, but his heart… that was a super power no one else could equal. She hugged him again. “I love you, Xan. But I do have to go. For a lot of reasons.” She didn’t say she’d see him soon or anything else she couldn’t count on. If she’d learned anything lately, it was that her life and what happened in it was pretty much out of her hands. Funny how being a powerful witch could turn out like this. “Thanks for trusting me.”  
  
“I’ll always trust you. I love you too, Will.”  
  
The embrace lasted for a long moment and then they parted, pulling themselves together so they could go back inside… only now they had company - Tara and Dawn, the latter of the two launching herself at Willow, nearly tackling her with a hug. A whole lot of incoherent babbling ensued, and even with Willow’s experience in the art, she was only able to decipher a few words: ‘Sorry’, ‘don’t go’, and ‘you saved my life’ were among them. Also ‘I love you.’ It had been so long since Dawn had said those words to her. “I love you too,” she replied. “I have to go, though.”  
  
Much to her shock, Dawn didn’t argue or pout. She seemed to understand even if she was puffy-faced and teary-eyed. “I won’t say anything about the magic to anyone else,” she said. “I mean, I only said something to Xander anyway and…”  
  
“And Tara,” Xander interrupted with a stern glare at Dawn.  
  
Willow to the rescue. “Tara already knew.” Dawn nodded and Willow was about to pat herself on the back when she realized what she’d just said. Oh no. Rescuing one shouldn’t involve throwing the other under the bus, should it? How to get out of this. “She sensed the magical energy when I came out of Dawn’s room.” Nice save, Rosenberg. Xander and Dawn bought it.  
  
Tara gave her a soft, secret smile, but there was sadness in her eyes, like she knew… and maybe she did. Out of all of them, she’d be the one who’d be able to see just what Willow had done for Dawn... and to know what she'd done to Rack. Now she was the one who approached Willow and embraced her, gently, but there was as much feeling as there had been from Dawn and Xander and it made Willow’s heart hurt. While she could never regret loving Spike, she would always regret the pain she’d caused Tara. “We should go inside, huh? Buffy and Giles are probably wondering what we’re all doing out here.”  
  
“She’s talking to Angel. Again,” Dawn said, rolling her eyes. Willow’s memories were of Dawn always having more than a little contempt for Angel and Buffy’s romance. “Giles is probably arguing with Spike.”  
  
Taking Dawn by the arm, she turned towards the back door. “We still should go in. It’s rude to leave everyone else like this.” Dawn sighed melodramatically and Xander chuckled as Willow led them all back indoors.  
  
When they got inside, the others were all in the living room. It was obvious Buffy had been crying. Willow went to her and they hugged, but Buffy was stiff as she said, “Bye, Will. I’ll call you before you leave, okay?” She was more focused on not looking at Angel than she was on saying goodbye to Willow.  
  
That hurt. It hurt so much. And even if she understood it and even thought she deserved it, being brushed off like this was agonizing, so much so that Giles’s equally formal and uncomfortable farewell got swallowed up in the pain of realizing that nothing between her and Buffy was ever going to be the same… not even their feelings.  
  
She barely heard her own voice let alone everyone else’s as more farewells were said and she and Spike and Angel and Connor left the Summers home and got into Angel’s car. Much to her surprise however, she didn’t cry once on the silent drive back to her parents’ house.  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	49. Chapter 49

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Forty-Nine)  
  
  
  
She’d thought that the tears she didn’t cry in the car would come once she was back at the house, but they didn’t. Instead Willow felt… hollow. It was a strange and unsettling feeling and she would much rather be crying.   
  
Cool arms wrapped around her from behind… but they weren’t Spike’s. “I’m sorry,” Angel whispered. “I know how much she means to you.”   
  
“What did you say to her, anyway?” Guess Spike was as curious as she was about what had left Buffy so blank and cold… so much like she’d been after Willow had ripped her out of Heaven.  
  
“She asked me if I wished… it could have been her being the mother of my son.”  
  
Willow stiffened and her voice rang with the hollowness inside when she said, “You told her no.” She could feel Angel nod and with that, the tears finally came. “Why did you say that? Why couldn’t you have just…?”  
  
“Lied to her?” She tried to break away from him, but Angel held her close. To her surprise, Spike simply stood by, doing nothing. “Do you really think that’s what she needs? She has to let go, Willow. The sooner she deals with the fact that there’s no us anymore and never will be, the sooner she can move on… find her own happiness.”  
  
He was right; she hated him for it, but he was right. Then she was struck by something else – the way he’d said ‘her own happiness.’ “Are you happy?” she asked, “About the way things have turned out, I mean?”  
  
Another nod and Spike chimed in. “’Course he is. Why wouldn’t he be?”   
  
“Spike,” Angel chided. But then he said, “He’s right. I’m happy. Not in a dangerous way,” he hastened to add, “but I _am_ happy.” His arms tightened around her and he kissed her neck.   
  
_Now_ Spike approached, but he didn’t make a move to take her away from Angel. No, instead… he kissed him. Was it just her or were things getting weird?  
  
Or maybe Spike needed comfort. It suddenly occurred to her that Sunnydale was his home too, the first place to which he’d had a real connection in so very long. For all that he and Xander snarked and scrapped and he and Giles fought over which of them was the true exemplar of the British male, they were family, and as for Dawn… she was as much of a sister to him as she was to Buffy. Spike too was unsettled by the way this place had been pulled out like a rug from beneath them, leaving them scrambling for safe ground.   
  
Angel let go and she slipped out from between the two men. Did they notice? She didn’t think about that long as she stood staring, transfixed at the way they seemed to melt into each other, their passion a palpable thing as human faces transformed into ridges and fangs.  
  
How things had turned from wistful nostalgia to passion she didn’t quite know, but then, for all that she was an immortal witch, she wasn’t a demon and she realized that was always going to be on the outside looking in in some respects, no matter how long she knew these two.  
  
The kiss ended and words were exchanged in voices too low for her to hear until Angel said, “I could never take her from you – and I don’t want to.”  
  
Okay, what was going on and why wasn’t anyone asking her? This again was one of those demon things with which she was never going to be entirely comfortable – and that was sort of the point, wasn’t it?   
  
One more topic about which she had no time to think since, within seconds, she was in Angel’s arms and he was kissing her with the same intensity with which he’d embraced Spike. It was intoxicating and she couldn’t deny it.   
  
If her parents knew how many times she’d had sex in this living room… Not that she was going to have actual sex with Angel or anything – even aside from the soul, she was Spike’s… wasn’t she?   
  
He was watching them, eyes golden and filled with lust. He was… enjoying this, enjoying watching Angel caress her, Angel kiss her, Angel… unbutton her blouse? She had definitely not expected this. But then again, hadn’t she enjoyed watching Spike pleasure Angel?  
  
“What…?” She was trying to ask what was happening, but then Angel put a finger to her lips.  
  
“I want to show you how happy you make me.” All right, that sounded _very_ dangerous, but for some reason the alarm bells weren’t sounding – not for her or for Spike. “Let’s go somewhere comfortable.” His next words were meant for Spike. “Take Connor upstairs.” Angel wasn’t much for silly little things like ‘please’ now was he? Spike obeyed, though, and a second later, she was scooped up in Angel’s arms. This was all getting a little more ‘caveman’ than she was comfortable with, but at the same time, she had to admit that it excited her.  
  
So she made no protest as she too was carried up the stairs, in her case to the room she would never sleep in again after tonight.   
  
Angel set her on the bed, but before she could wonder what was going on, Angel was with her, his body on hers, his hands roaming over her with clear intent. She was disrobed so quickly she wasn’t sure he hadn’t used a spell. “Shh… Let me show you…”  
  
‘Show me what?’ she wondered, but in seconds she sort of got the idea when Angel’s tongue began its work on her pussy.  
  
Oh goddess. He was nothing like Spike. Where Spike teased and explored, Angel conquered. It was almost too much, but his hands gripped her hips firmly, holding her still while he worked her relentlessly toward an orgasm that felt as though she were rocketing brakeless toward a brick wall.  
  
“Angel,” she cried as she crashed hard into her release.   
  
It felt like hours had passed before she was finally able to open her eyes. When she did, Angel was lying beside her. Spike stood in the doorway naked – and aroused. “This party’s just started, pet,” he said with a smirk.   
  
Could she stand any more? She had to admit that, even after the rollercoaster she’d just experienced, she was kind of looking forward to finding out.   
  
Unfortunately, it looked like she wasn’t going to. Just as Spike approached the bed, the doorbell rang. Spike’s face instantly changed. “Bloody hell! It’s Buffy.”  
  
Eek! She was off the bed in a flash, pulling her clothes back on as best she could and hoping Buffy was too distracted to notice the scent of sex.   
  
“Coming,” she called out as she was halfway down the stairs, ignoring the immature chuckling she could hear from the bedroom.  
  
A moment later, she opened the front door. Her best friend was in tears. “Buffy? Are you okay? Did something happen?”  
  
Immediately, she was enveloped in a Slayer-strength hug. “Willow, I’m so sorry. Can you forgive me?”  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	50. Chapter 50

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Fifty)  
  
  
  
“Willow, I’m so sorry. Can you forgive me?” Buffy’s arms were around her and Slayer-tears were soaking her shirt and… Could Willow possibly feel any guiltier? Because the love of Buffy’s life had just given her a mind-blowing orgasm upstairs and Buffy was… apologizing? Oh goddess.  
  
At least this proved that leaving town for good was one hundred percent the right thing to do. “There’s nothing to forgive,” she told her friend, whose blotchy, tear-stained face was now before her – red, puffy eyes staring into her own. And what she said was true… at least if you only counted Buffy.  
  
Just then, Buffy’s nostrils flared slightly and she gave Willow a strange look. “Did I interrupt…?”  
  
This was exactly what she was most afraid of, but her tongue – and her mind – failed her for a response. Lucky for her they were no longer alone. “Yeah, ya did,” came a British-accented voice from the stairwell. And there stood Spike, clad in nothing but jeans and a smirk. He approached and put his arm around Willow. “But I guess we can get back to it later.” Then he nuzzled her neck for good measure.   
  
Buffy’s face got even redder. “Sorry.” Then she seemed to pull herself together. “Will? Can we talk?”  
  
Oh no. Just how good was a Slayer’s sense of smell? Could Buffy – like Spike and Angel – be able to tell exactly who she’d just been doing naked stuff with? “Sure,” she said, trying hard not to sound like she’d been sucking on helium.   
  
Spike looked at her, not a trace of concern on his face, and said, “You two go say your goodbyes.” Okay, guess that meant she didn’t have to worry after all… unless Spike was wrong, in which case…No, it was better not to think about that. Besides, since when was Spike ever wrong about stuff like this?  
  
So now here they were in Willow’s kitchen. Buffy was the first to speak – and it wasn’t the accusation she’d feared. Phew. Except for the part where it was clear that Buffy was hurting anyway. “I just… I’m sorry about how I acted back at my house tonight. It’s just that Angel… I don’t know if he told you…” Willow nodded, wanting to spare Buffy the pain of having to repeat it all. “When did he stop loving me?” she asked, her voice small and plaintive, like a little girl. How many times was Willow’s heart going to break?   
  
“You guys were doomed from the start,” Willow offered gently as she took Buffy’s hand. “I think he just had to let go.” She stared into Buffy’s eyes. “I think you should too.” Her friend was about to protest, but Willow hurried to say more. “I get that loving Angel… it was a big thing for you, and when it happened – hey, you weren’t even sure you were going to live very long, plus he was a vampire, you were a Slayer, so there was the whole forbidden thing going for it. But Buffy… you’ve grown up. And I think we’ve established that even when you die, you don’t really stay gone. You’re gonna be here for awhile.” Willow felt a pang as she was reminded of how much shorter that time would be then her own, but she kept talking. “Maybe you need something real, with someone who can be everything for you for the long haul. Angel… he can’t be that guy. You know that. But you’re gorgeous and smart and – bonus – you can kill things with your bare hands. You even own your own home. I think it’s safe to say you’re a catch. There’s someone out there for you. You just have to be willing to find him.” Then her eyes twinkled and she added, “Or her. Might as well not limit yourself.”  
  
The first response she got was a light punch to the arm and a mock-shocked expression from Buffy. Then another hug. “Thanks.” There was a pause and Buffy asked, “Do you really think there are guys who want a girl who can kill demons?”  
  
“Pfft! Have you ever been to a comic book convention?”  
  
The look that remark elicited was stern indeed. “I meant guys with jobs, Willow.”  
  
“Hey! Xander goes to those conventions!”  
  
“Guys who aren’t married and who aren’t practically my brother would be good too.”  
  
“What about a Watcher? Giles isn’t the only…”  
  
“Eww! Guys who aren’t Wesley, thank you.” Oh no. That reminded Willow that she hadn’t exactly told Spike and Angel what Cordelia’s big secret was. She’d better do that before they left.  
  
Buffy seemed to notice her momentary distraction. “You okay?”  
  
“Oh yeah. Bad mental picture there, that’s all.” She took Buffy’s hand again. “There really is someone for you. You’ll find them… and you’ll be happy. Really happy.”  
  
“Promise?” Buffy asked, staring straight into her eyes.  
  
For some reason Willow had total confidence that she was telling the truth when she met that gaze straight on and said, “I promise.”  
  
It was hug time again. “I’m gonna miss you so much. Why do you have to go?”  
  
“I’m needed in L.A.,” she said, before heading things into a more lighthearted direction. “Spike likes it better there, too. I think he enjoys annoying Angel.”  
  
Okay… Buffy was blushing again. Why was Buffy blushing? “So you and Spike were… when I showed up?”  
  
“Y-yeah,” Willow said tentatively. Where was this going?  
  
“How could you, you know, with Angel right here in the house?”  
  
Oh my. Now Willow was blushing, luckily, that could be interpreted in a lot of ways, including ones with explanations fit for Buffy. “Spike’s kind of an exhibitionist.”  
  
With that, Buffy blushed more deeply than ever. Oh gosh. She’d almost forgotten that Buffy had her own memories of Spike and his sexual proclivities. Was it weird that she wasn’t jealous? She decided not to say anything about that. It occurred to her that Buffy might feel badly that Willow was so comfortable with them having had the same lover.  
  
“Oh yeah,” Buffy said _sotto voce_. Then, louder, she said, “Guess you’ve gotten used to that, huh?”  
  
Willow blushed again. “Uh… yeah.”  
  
Buffy gave her an appraising look and shook her head. “Okay, if you guys play Mistress of Pain, I so don’t want to know about it.”  
  
With that, both girls dissolved into a fit of giggles. A round of silly reminiscences ensued, and the years seemed to fall away for a brief time. Then both girls grew quiet until Buffy turned that searching gaze on her again and asked, “When you were with Oz, did you think he was your one and only forever guy?” She nodded and Buffy grabbed her, hugging her hard. “Then there really is hope for me, huh? Look at you now.”  
  
They stayed like this for a long while, holding each other, Willow trying hard to lock in memories – the scent of Buffy’s shampoo, the sound of her laugh. Would she ever see her again? Sooner or later, that answer would be no. It would have to be, wouldn’t it? Otherwise Buffy would notice that time wasn’t passing for one of them. Willow was no fool. She knew that her immortality came with the full Dick Clark anti-aging package.   
  
If only… but no, there were no fairy tales and, if Anya had taught her anything, anything not x-rated anyway, wishes usually ended with someone losing an appendage – or meeting their skanky vampire double from another dimension. So it was best to just hope the PTB’s cared about the warriors and not just the war and leave it at that.  
  
Would the last thing she was going to remember about Buffy be that she had a weird fondness for polyester blend sweaters?  
  
The embrace ended eventually and Buffy looked away for a moment before saying, “Can we do the goodbye thing now? I…”  
  
“Me, too,” Willow answered, understanding what her friend was going through, possibly better than she did herself. “I love you, Buffy.”  
  
“I love you, too, Willow.”  
  
Neither of them promised to see each other soon.  
  
Some pleasantries followed, but she didn’t think either of them was paying attention and too soon they were back at the front door. “Goodbye,” they said in unison. It might have made them laugh at some other time, but not now. Instead it brought on one more short but intense hug before Buffy hurried out the door and off into the night.  
  
Willow burst into tears.  
  
Why did this have to be so hard?  
  
A moment later, she was no longer alone. Spike’s arms wrapped around her and Angel was there, eyes full of concern. “Is everything okay?” She nodded, even as she continued to sob.  
  
“Might miss her a bit myself,” Spike said and Willow leaned against him, wondering how much more she could possibly love him.  
  
“You’ll still call her…” Angel’s voice trailed off as if he’d been about to say more and thought better of it. Willow appreciated that. With their lives now completely out of their hands, even phone calls seemed like too much to hope for.   
  
Well, except for one thing… “Does anyone know what we’re gonna do about my parents’ car?”  
  
Willow’s question seemed to take both men by surprise. She had to admit that she’d almost forgotten about it herself in the hurly burly of her tumultuous life. “Guess we could have Cordelia or someone drive it up, have someone else follow. Gunn maybe, or…”  
  
“Or Wesley,” Willow blurted out without thinking.   
  
Oh goddess. Angel was glaring at her, seeming to think she’d just made a tasteless joke. Oh well, she was gonna have to tell him anyway. Why not now?   
  
“Uh… funny thing about Wesley. Cordelia called Xander looking for my number, which apparently you forgot to leave with her,” she said with a glare, trying to turn the tables a bit though not succeeding at all, “and Xander kind of heard him in the background. I think maybe he’s the secret Cordelia’s been keeping.”  
  
Wow. The accent. She’d almost forgotten that Angel was Irish. Also, how come that, whether you spoke their language or not, you could always tell when someone was cursing? Because even in Gaelic, obscenities had their own special quality.  
  
She was gonna have to remember some of those words.   
  
Also, one of these days, she was going to have to learn to control her tongue. She’d have time, right? Lots of it.  
  
If her immortality held through the fireworks in Los Angeles when Angel confronted his team.  
  
She wasn’t exactly confident right now.  
  
Oh gosh. What did _that_ word mean?  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	51. Chapter 51

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Fifty-One)  
  
  
  
It was probably better that Angel handled the initial confrontation over the phone, but Willow had still winced when Angel yelled at Cordelia. Again: why did she always end up crashing into Cordelia’s life and breaking all the good china?  
  
Well, at least it was all over now and Cordelia could be comforted by Groo before Willow and Angel and Spike returned.   
  
Of course, there was also the part where they had to accept Wesley being back as part of the team. According to Cordelia, he’d helped them save a whole family from being sacrificed by some favored client of Wolfram and Hart – in fact, the mission could never have been accomplished without him – but that didn’t mean it was going to be easy for Angel to see the man who’d nearly cost him his son every single day. On that point, Willow was certainly understanding of his feelings and she wasn’t sure she didn’t share them. The memory of Holtz’s severed head, eyes fixed in an eternal stare of horror and shock, was never going to leave her and the fact that she was responsible for the beheading was entirely because of Wesley and his idiotic mistrust and blind belief in prophecies no matter what their provenance. Guess he hadn’t heard about all the prophecies they’d foiled in Sunnydale because he’d been too busy staring down Cordelia’s shirts.  
  
“Penny for ‘em,” Spike said as he sat down beside her on the bed they were never going to share again.   
  
“They aren’t worth that much,” she said, staring out the window into the darkness and then looking at the clock. Gosh. One in the morning, huh? “I was just thinking about Wesley,” she added, giggling as Spike shuddered dramatically.  
  
“Can’t believe that lot let Percy back into the fold.”  
  
“He did help save a whole family.” Was she really defending Wesley? Oh goddess.  
  
To her surprise, Spike shrugged and caved. “Yeah, guess he did at that. Advantage to shagging some bint who works for the enemy, I s’pose.”   
  
Okay. There was a story there but Willow wasn’t sure she wanted to hear it. “I’m glad he decided to do some good,” she said, carefully skirting any reference to Wesley getting pelvic. When it came to the idea of Wesley having sex, she was kind of on Team Buffy; about the only nakedness she wanted to picture less than that involving Wesley would be Clem getting naughty with Faith.  
  
Speaking of sexy fun times, however… “Buffy figured out that I was having sex before she got here. She thought it was you and me, though.”  
  
Spike chuckled. “Was about to be, wasn’t it? ‘Sides, I was there and enjoying the show.”  
  
Wouldn’t you know? This was a topic she’d been wanting to broach but hadn’t dared. “You were? You really were? It was okay? The whole ‘me and Angel’ thing?”  
  
Spike put his arm around her and she laid her head on his shoulder as he reassured her. “Guess this is one more thing you’re learning about demons, innit?”  
  
“Guess so,” she said softly, wondering if she was completely okay with him being… completely okay.  
  
It seemed like he could read her mind. “I know you love me. I know where I rate with you. Not afraid of Angel in the least. You two can have your fun together. When it comes down to it, you’re mine and I’m yours and that’s what matters.”  
  
“He’s right.”   
  
She started at the voice from the doorway and jumped up. “Angel.”  
  
“Connor’s asleep,” he said, giving a look she could only describe as knowing to Spike, who was now standing as well.  
  
Now that she wasn’t as slow on the uptake as she used to be… “I guess we’re picking up where we left off?”  
  
“That’s right, love. Mind?”   
  
He was asking? Gosh. He really was, which she appreciated because hey – not always in the mood for sex at the drop of a hat here. Of course when Spike made with that little smirk and the narrowed eyes… “No, I don’t mind.”   
  
With that, Spike kissed her. It was the kind of kiss that curled her toes and made her dizzy, so dizzy that she didn’t even notice that Angel was in the room anymore until he came up behind her and began kissing her neck, his hands moving up her body to cup her breasts. She moaned into Spike’s mouth, wondering why she’d had any doubt at all that she was in the mood, because right now? Ready and raring to go.  
  
Spike let her go and she turned in Angel’s arms. Eep! He was naked. How had she not noticed that? Oh. His clothes were on the floor near the door. Guess he’d undressed while she and Spike had first been kissing.  
  
Two sets of hands began making short work of her clothes as well and before she knew it, there were three naked people on her not-very-roomy bed. She didn’t spend much time thinking about that, though. Instead she looked at the expression on Angel’s face and wondered if Spike had learned to smirk from him or vice versa. She also wondered if all male vampires were well-endowed or if it was something Spike and Angel had retained from their human days.  
  
It seemed like an eternity before Spike noticed her looking at Angel’s cock and said, “You gonna stare at it all night?” His tone was teasing, but she guessed he had a point. It was just… yeah, she was still a bit uncomfortable with the whole ‘threesome’ thing. Not that she didn’t _like_ it, it was just…  
  
Angel was sitting up, back against the wall, erect and waiting… waiting for? Okay, what was she supposed to do? Admittedly, she still wasn’t sure what was safe with him and what wasn’t, although she _felt_ safe, but… Oh goddess. Why wasn’t there a handbook? Unlike Buffy, she’d actually read a handbook – and highlight the important parts. She promised.  
  
She started slightly as she felt Spike move behind her and begin caressing her, but she soon relaxed and moaned softly. Okay, her brain was now turning off again. Spike did have the most amazing hands. Then, before he knew it, Spike bent her forward and entered her from behind.  
  
The way he filled her… it felt perfect every time and now was no exception. She heard Angel groan and watched as his cock hardened even more, precum oozing from the tip. It was hard to care, though, not with Spike…  
  
“Take him in your mouth,” Spike said, stopping his thrusts as she whined in frustration. It wasn’t an order – or was it? – but she did as he asked and was gratified when he began to move again.   
  
Sucking Angel off while Spike was taking her was awkward at first, but she soon found a rhythm and it was clearly working for Angel, whose hands were now wound in her hair. It was strange and new, the three of them joined this way, but the feelings it was engendering in her were incredible.  
  
She could feel her release building. Spike wasn’t far off either; she could tell by the speed of his thrusts and she moaned around Angel’s cock as she felt her belly tighten.  
  
Then it hit… at the same time for the three of them. As the knot in her belly came shatteringly undone, she could taste Angel and feel Spike’s cool release inside her.  
  
It was like nothing she’d ever experienced. The vague feeling of connection she’d felt when she and Spike had stroked Angel was nothing like the sensation she was having now. It was golden and glowing and she felt like she was flying… flying beside them both.  
  
Higher and higher it carried her and she was terrified for a moment that, like Icarus, she’d get too near the sun, but the ecstasy…   
  
After a moment, she could breathe again and she collapsed beside them both. It was then that it hit her. Looking into Angel’s face, she said softly, “Your soul.”  
  
He stared back - the look on his face was that of a child on Christmas morning seeing that pony he wanted standing outside in the snow. “It’s mine,” he said, his voice as full of wonder as that child. “It’s really mine.”  
  
“Guess you’ll be wanting to shag me proper now,” Spike groused.  
  
Willow snuggled closer to him and giggled. Angel guffawed.  
  
Leave it to Spike.  
  
  
  
To be continued…


	52. Chapter 52

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Fifty-Two)  
  
  
  
It was late afternoon and Willow was packing, quietly and thoughtfully. Angel was in her parents’ bedroom with his son, carefully arranging things back as they’d been so no one would ever know he’d been there. Even Spike was uncharacteristically subdued as he watched her take one final look through her possessions, picking and choosing which mementoes should accompany her to Los Angeles.  
  
Surprisingly, they hadn’t had sex since the rather momentous anchoring of Angel’s soul. Maybe Spike and Angel felt, as she did, that it was something best saved for Los Angeles, for a town that wasn’t Buffy’s – at least not anymore. She didn’t know. Honestly, she was still trying to absorb what had happened.  
  
Now that she thought about it though, it made a weird kind of sense – sexual magic anchoring the soul of a vampire who’d once lost that soul making love to the first woman who’d ever truly made him happy. Still, it made her feel guiltier than ever, knowing that being with her had done what being with Buffy had _un_ done.  
  
If only she could leave knowing that there was some chance of happiness glimmering on her best friend’s horizon.  
  
The PTB’s, however, weren’t nearly that compassionate, were they?  
  
Still, at least she had hope. That last talk with Buffy had gone well, and if there had been lies and secrets, there had also been truth and understanding – the last two shining so much brighter than the first.   
  
Just as she was putting the last of her favorite childhood photos in her suitcase and zipping it up, the doorbell rang. Oh gosh. “Who could that be?”  
  
“It’s the Watcher… and he’s got Bit, Glinda, Demon Girl and Doughnut Boy with him.” She was never going to get used to the way Spike always knew who was behind a door. More important than his senses, though, was the fact that everyone had shown up to say goodbye.  
  
She headed downstairs, trying to keep her eyes from welling up as she opened the front door… and was immediately bombarded with hugs. Giles waited, but then when the others let go, he grabbed her and hugged her too. She lost the battle with tears as she remembered that time in the library… the time when he’d thought she died. “I’m sorry,” he said softly enough that she only just heard him.   
  
There was a world in those words and somehow it all unfolded in her mind and it made up for everything. She knew what he meant and it was enough. Funny how sometimes words could mean so much more than what they usually did.  
  
It was a good thing that he’d been able to pack it all into such a small space anyway, because soon there was a cacophony around her – the voices of everyone else she was loving and leaving competing for space. Even Anya was crying and that made Willow break down into sobs. Who knew Anya would miss her so much… and that she would miss her right back? “You don’t have to pay me back for the supplies you stole.” From the Queen of Capitalism, that was the supreme expression of affection and Willow cherished it even as Xander rolled his eyes.  
  
The living room was crowded, for the first time in as long as Willow could remember… for the last time, she was sure. Once again, it both made leaving harder and brought home the necessity of it all the same. Ten years from now, after all, she’d look just as she did today. What would they all look like? How would Dawn look when coltish angles gave way to womanly curves? Would there be lines in Xander’s forehead? More grey in Giles’s hair? Would Anya be screaming like a banshee as she saw the first hint of crow’s feet? Would Tara’s eyes shine with love for another woman?   
  
That last was Willow’s fondest hope, even as she knew she wouldn’t see it… wouldn’t see any of it.  
  
It was Tara, timid Tara, who worked her way through the throng and guided Willow off to the kitchen for a private word. “It’s okay,” she said. “I know there’s something you’re not telling us – any of us – and I… I understand. What you did… for Dawn, for all of us…” With that, she hugged her and Willow’s heart ached. More than ever, she wished that her own happiness hadn’t come at Tara’s expense.  
  
“Thank you,” she said, sending up a little prayer to the goddess to give Tara what she most deserved – a love as strong and all-encompassing as what Willow had found with Spike. She stared out the back window, noticing that the light was fading. “We’re gonna have to go soon.”  
  
She could feel Tara nod and then the two women let go of each other and headed back into the living room, where she was instantly grabbed by Xander. “I love you,” he said fiercely.  
  
“I love you, too.”  
  
Then she hugged Dawn and Anya and even Giles again. There were choruses of ‘I love you’ and ‘Are you sure you have to go?’ and then Angel came downstairs with a bag slung over his shoulder, holding Connor. That seemed to be the signal. Voices became more subdued, there were a few shorter, less intense embraces, and finally her friends all slipped out the door and into the new night.  
  
They were leaving. They were really leaving.  
  
She wasn’t going to cry, though. Instead, she turned to Angel and said, “I’m gonna go get my stuff,” and then went upstairs. Spike was sitting on the bed, staring at the wall.   
  
“You could have come downstairs.”  
  
“Nah. Hate goodbyes.” She understood that. Hopefully Dawn did as well. The fact that she’d said nothing downstairs…   
  
“You said goodbye to her already, didn’t you?” She was pretty sure Spike knew who she meant.  
  
He did. “Last night. When you were in the kitchen with Buffy. I called her.”  
  
Even though he hadn’t told her until now, Willow was glad of that. “She knows. About how I saved her and everything.”  
  
“Yeah. Thought as much. We didn’t talk about that though.” He didn’t say anything more and Willow didn’t pry. He’d tell her someday soon.  
  
She was about to pick up one of her suitcases when he glared. She rolled her eyes at him, but stepped back. All right, she would concede to his Victorian sensibilities and let him carry the bags downstairs. She went ahead of him, giggling to herself at his mumbled curses about modern women who just didn’t appreciate a gentleman.  
  
“Are you okay?” Angel asked.  
  
That was a heck of a question. Willow was leaving the town she’d called home all her life and friends she’d had forever. She was off to fulfill a destiny about which she knew so very little and likely never would until events were right on top of her. Dealing with Wesley awaited as well as having to explain to everyone that Angel’s soul was secure… and just what that meant in terms of the way things were between him and her and Spike. She was going to look in the mirror at this exact face forever and she suddenly felt a longing for the strands of grey and the smile lines she would never know.  
  
There was the thud of suitcases hitting the floor and she felt Spike’s arms slip around her.  
  
“Yeah,” she replied, “I’m okay.”  
  
With that, Spike picked up the suitcases again and they all headed out to the car. Soon enough she’d be seeing the lights of L.A…  
  
… and they’d look like home.  
  
  
  
The End.


End file.
